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SUPPLEMENT
TO THE
AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY
OF
ALEXANDER WILSON.
CONTAINING
A SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR’S LIFE,
WITH A
SELECTION FROM HIS LETTERS; SOME REMARKS UPON HIS WRITINGS;
AND A
HISTORY OF THOSE BIRDS
AVHICH WERE INTENDED TO COMPOSE PART OF HIS
NINTH VOLUME.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PLATES,
engraved from WHiSON’S ORIGINAL DRA^VINGS.
BY
GEORGE ORD, F. L. S.
MEMBER OP THE AM. PHIL. SOC. AND OF THE ACAD. NAT. SCIENCES OF PHILADELPHIA, AND
i^r»i>npcpnMT>F.NT OP THE PHILOMATHIC SOCIETY OF PARIS.
PHILADELPHIA;
PUBLISHED BY J. LAVAL AND S. F. BRADFORD.
Eastsiih Distbict ot Peskstitania, to wit :
BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the second day of September, in the fiftieth
year of the Independence of the United States of America, A. D. 1825, George Ord,
of the said district, hath deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof
he claims as author, in the words following, to wit :
“ Supplement to the American Ornithology of Alexander Wilson, Containing a
Sketch of the Author’s life, with a Selection from his Letters ; some Remarks upon his
Writings; and a History of those Birds which were intended to compose part of his
Ninth volume. Illustrated with Plates, engraved from Wilson's original Drawings. By
George Orel, F, L. S. Member of the Am. Phil. Soc. and of the Acad. Nat. Sciences
of Philadelphia; and Correspondent of the Philomathic Society of Paris.”
In conformity to the act of the congress of the United States, intituled, ” An act
for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books,
to the authors and proprietors ot such copies, during the times therein mentioned.”
And also to the act, entitled, “An act supplementary to an act, entitled “An act for the
encouragement of learning, by securing the copies, of maps, charts, and books, to the
authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned,” and ex-
tending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical
and other prints.”
D. CALDWELL,
Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
T. H. PALMER, PRINTER.
PREFACE.
IN the preface to the first edition of this supplementary
volume, the motives of the publication are stated, and the peculiar
circumstances under which its author was placed, in respect to ma-
terials, are detailed ; there is, therefore, no need of repeating
them.
It has been thought proper to augment the volume by a se-
lection from the series of interesting letters, which were put into
the writer’s hands by some of Wilson’s personal friends, who were
anxious that these memorials should not be lost. It may be, per-
haps, objected that some of them are of too trifling a nature for
publication ; but let it be observed that they all, more or less, tend
to throw light upon the employments, and peculiarities of charac-
ter, of an individual of no every day occurrence ; one of those to
whose genius we would render homage, and the memory of whom
we delight to cherish.
For the particulars of Wilson’s early life, the writer has been
indebted to a narrative, in manuscript, which was communicated
to him by Mr. William Duncan. This information, coming from
via
PREFACE.
a nephew of Wilson’s, and his confidential friend for many years,
must be deemed authentic ; and we have to regret that the plan
and limits of our publication did not allow us to make a freer use
of what was so kindly placed at our disposal.
To Mr. Duncan, Mr. Miller, and Mr. Lawson, the writer owes
many obligations, for the promptitude with which they intrusted
to him their letters ; and his acknowledgments are equally due to
Colonel Robert Carr, who furnished him with the letters to the late
William Bartram. The friendship which subsisted between Wil-
son and the latter was of the most exalted kind ; and the warm
expressions of confidence and regard which characterize these let-
ters, will afford a proof of how much of the writer’s happiness was
derived from this amiable intercourse. The reader’s obligations to
Colonel Carr will not be lessened, when it is stated that the greater
part of these interesting epistles were mislaid during the latter days
of the venerable botanist to whom they were addressed ; and that
it was through the care of the above-mentioned gentleman they
were rescued from oblivion.
The errors of nomenclature which were committed in the first
edition, it has been the author’s endeavour to correct in the pre-
sent. These errors arose from the idea which he unadvisedly en-
tertained, that he ought not to change those names which Wilson
himself had sanctioned by adoption. A little more experience
would have taught him the absurdity of this opinion, as science
can be but ill advanced by a reliance on authority, independent of
personal investigation.
PREFACE.
IX
The histories of the few birds which are given in this volume
might have been enlarged, and made more interesting to the gene-
ral reader, by the introduction of some particulars with which the
writer’s experience had supplied him, in his recent travels and
examinations. But when he found that the biographical part of
the volume was swelled beyond its due proportion, he was com-
pelled, however reluctantly, to forbear.
It will be long ere the lovers of science will cease to deplore
the event, which snatched from us one so eminently gifted for
natural investigations by his zeal, his industry, his activity, and his
intelligence ; one who, after a successful prosecution of his great
undertaking through a series of eventful years, was deprived of his
merited reward at the moment when he was about putting the fin-
ishing hand to those labours which have secured to him an im-
perishable renown. “ The hand of death,” says Pliny, “ is ever,
in my estimation, too severe, and too sudden, when it falls upon
such as are employed in some immortal work. The sons of sen-
suality, who have no other views beyond the present hour, termi-
nate with each day the whole purpose of their lives ; but those
who look forward to postei’ity, and endeavour to extend their
memories to future generations by useful labours ; — to such, death
is always immature, as it still snatches them from amidst some un-
finished design.”
But although that Being, who so often frustrates human pur-
poses, thought proper, in his wisdom, to terminate the “ unfinished
design” of our lamented friend, yet were his aspirations after an
honourable distinction in society fully answered. The poor de-
VOL. IX.
B
X
PREFACE.
spised weaver of Paisley takes his rank among the writers of our
country; and after ages shall look up to the Father of American
Ornithology, and bless that Providence, which, by inscrutable
ways, led him to the only spot, perhaps, of the civilized earth,
where his extraordinary talents would be encouraged to develope
themselves, and his estimable qualities of heart would be duly ap-
preciated.
Wilson has proved to us what genius and industry can effect
in despite of obstacles, which men of ordinary abilities would con-
sider insurmountable. His example will not be disregarded; and
his success will be productive of benefits, the extent of which can-
not be estimated. Already has that country, of whom it was
sneeringly said, that she had “ done nothing, either to extend, di-
versify, or embellish, the sphere of human knowledge and by
whom a “paltry contribution to Natural History, a little elemen-
tary Treatise of Botany, which appeared in 1803, was chronicled
among the remarkable occuiTenees since the Revolution and
“ the destruction of whose whole literature would not occasion so
much regret as we feel for the loss of a few leaves from an ancient
classick’’"'— already has that country, which has hardly passed the
period of childhood, produced works on the Natural Sciences,
which have excited the attention and applause of Europe ; works
which may be considered merely as specimens of what her enter-
* These austere remarks were published in the year 1810, sixteen months after the ap-
pearance of Wilson s first volume ; and in that part of Great Britain, too, where the “ Ameri-
can Ornithology had been received, and had excited no ordinary degree of the attention of the
public.
PREFACE.
XI
prise and genius are capable of achieving ; I allude, particularly,
to the excellent botanical publications of doctors W. P. C. Barton
and I. Bigelow, and the beautiful Entomology of Say ; and before
this volume will have met the public eye, the splendid Ornithology
of the Prince of Musignano, will have convinced our trans-atlantic
sciolists of the indiscretion of dogmatically promulgating opinions
on those branches of human knowledge, in the advancement of
which they themselves are so notably deficient.
Philadelphia, July 4, 1825.
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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
OF
ALEXANDER WILSON.
ALEXANDER WILSON was born in the town of Paisley,
in the west of Scotland, on the sixth day of July, 1766. His father,
who was also named Alexander, followed the distilling business ;
an humble occupation, which neither allowed him much time for
the improvement of his mind, nor yielded him much more than
the necessaries of life. He was illiterate and poor; and died on
the 5th June, 1816, at the age of eighty-eight. His mother was a
native of Jura, one of the Hebrides or Western Islands of Scotland.
She is said to have been a woman of delicate health, but of good
understanding; and passionately fond of Scotch music, a taste for
which she early inculcated on her son; who, in his riper years, cul-
tivated it as one of the principal amusements of his life. She died
when Alexander was about ten years old, leaving him, and two sis-
ters, to mourn their irreparable loss ; a loss which her affectionate
son never ceased to deplore, as it deprived him of his best friend ;
one who had fostered his infant mind; and who had looked forward,
with fond expectation, to that day,
“ When, clad in sable gown, with solemn air,
“The walls of God’s own house should echo back his prayer:”
For it appears to have been her wish that he should be educated
for the ministry.
VOL, IX. D
M. EVmhJHT,
West ChfiMe? Fa.,
Jfct to dd ioancci on '(>ny Condit ' •
XIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
At a school in Paisley, Wilson wast aught the common rudi-
ments of learning. But what proficiency he made, whether he was
distinguished from his schoolmates or not, my memorials of his early
life do not inform me. It appears that he was initiated in the ele-
ments of the Latin tongue ; but having been removed from school
at the age of twelve or thirteen, the amount of knowledge acquired
could not have been great ; and I have i-eason to believe that he
never afterwards resumed the study. His early productions shoAv
that his English education had not only been greatly cireumscribed,
but very imperfect. He wrote, as all self-taught authors write, care-
lessly and incorrectly; his sentences, eonstructed by the ear, often
displease one by their gross violations of the rules of grammar, an
essential part of learning to which he never seriously applied him-
self, until, after his arrival in America, he found it necessary to
qualify himself for an instructor of youth.
Wilson’s father, feeling the want of a helper in the government
of an infant family, again entered into the matrimonial state. The
maiden name of this second wife was Brown.
It was the intention of the father that Alexander should be edu-
cated for a physician; but this design was not relished by the son,
who had, through the impertinent interference of some persons,
imbibed some prejudices against the profession, which were the
cause of the project’s being abandoned.
It being the wish of the step-mother that the boy should be
put to a trade, he was accordingly apprenticed to his brother-in-law,
William Duncan, who then resided in Paisley, to learn the art of
weaving. That this determination was the result of good sense
there can be no doubt ; the employment had the tendeney to fix
a disposition somewhat impetuous and wavering ; and the useful
knowledge acquired thereby he was enabled, at a subsequent period
o 1 e, to turn to account, when mental exertion, even with supe-
nor resources, would have availed him but little.
life of WILSON.
XV
The scheme of being taught a trade met with little or no op-
position from the subject of this memoir, his father’s house no lon-
ger affording him that pleasure which it had done during the life
of her who had given him existence. Some difference had arisen
between him and his step-mother ; whether from undutifiil conduct
of his, or harsh treatment of hers, I know not; but it may be assert-
ed with truth that she continued an object of his aversion through
life ; which was manifest from the circumstance that, in llie many
letters which he wrote from America to his father, he seldom, if
ever, mentioned her name. She is still living, and must, doubt-
less, feel not a little that her predictions with respect to the
» lazy weaver r as ^andy was termed at home, who, instead of mind-
ing his business, mispent his time in making verses, were never
verified. But, in justice to her character, we must state, that, if
she was an unkind step-mother, she nevertheless proved herself to
be a faithful and affectionate wife; and supported, by her industry,
her husband when he became, by age and infirmities, incapable of
labour.
At an early period of his life Wilson evinced a strong desire
for learning ; and this was encouraged by a spirit of emulation
which prevailed among his youthful acquaintance, who, like him-
self, happily devoted many of their vacant hours to literary pur-
suits He had free access to a collection of magazines and es-
says, which, by some good luck, his father had beeome possessed
of; and these, as he himself often asserted, “ were the first books
tlvdtgave him a fondness for reading and reflection.” This re-
markable instance of the beneficial tendency of periodical publica-
tions we record with pleasure; and it may be adduced as an argu-
ment in favour of affording patronage, in our young country, to a
species of literature so well adapted to the leisure of a commercial
people, and which, since the days of Addison, has had so powerful
an influence on the taste and morals of the British nation.
XVI
LIFE OF WILSON.
Caledonia is fruitful of verseinen: every village has its poets;
and so prevalent is the habit of jingling rhymes, that a scholar is
considered as possessing no taste, if he do not attune the Scottish
lyre to those themes, which the amor patrii^^ the national pride of
a Scotsman, has identified with his very existence.
That poetry would attract the regard of Wilson was to be
expected; it was the vehicle of sentiments which were in unison
with his sanguine temperament; he had early imbibed a love of vir-
tue, and it now assumed a romantic cast by assimilation with the
high-wrought efforts of fancy, combined with the melody of song.
After an apprenticeship of about five years Wilson became his
own master; and, relinquishing the occupation of weaving, he re-
solved to gratify his taste for rural scenery by journeying into the
interior of the country, in the capacity of a pedler. He was now
about eighteen, full of ardour and vivacity; had a constitution
capable of great exertion; and a mind which promised resources
amid every difficulty. Having been initiated in the art of trading,
he shouldered his pack, and cheerfully set out in quest of riches.
In a mind of a romantic turn, Scotland affords situations abundant-
ly calculated to arouse all those associations which the sublime
and beautiful in nature inspire, Wilson was an enthusiast; and
the charms of those mountains, vallies, and streams, which had
been immortalized in song, filled his soul with rapture, and incited
some of the earliest efforts of his youthful muse.
To him who would accumulate wealth by trade, the muses
must not be propitious. That abstraction of mind from worldly
concerns which letters require, but ill qualifies one to descend to
those arts, which, in order to be successfully practised, must be the
unceasing objects of solicitude and attention. While the trader
was feasting his eyes upon the beauties of a landscape, or enditing
an elegy or a song, the auspicious moment to drive a bargain was
neglected, or some more fortunate rival was allowed to supplant
LIFE OF WILSON.
xvii
him. From the habit of surveying the works of nature arose an
indifference to the employment of trading, which became more dis-
gusting at each interview with the muses ; and nothing but the
dread of poverty induced him to conform to the vulgar avocations
of common life.
Burns was now the favourite of the public ; and from the
unexampled success of this humble son of genius, many aspired to
the honours of the laurel, who otherwise would have confined their
views of renown to the limited circle of their family or acquaint-
ance. Among this number may be reckoned our Wilson ; who,
believing that he possessed the talent of poetical expression, ven-
tured to exhibit his essays to his friends, whose approbation en-
couraged him to renewed perseverance, in the hope of emerging
from that condition in society which his aspiring soul could not
but disdain.
In consequence of his literary attainments, and correct moral
deportment, he was admitted to the society of several gentlemen
of talents and respectability, who descried in our youth the pro-
mise of eminence. Flattered by attentions, which are always grate-
ful to the ingenuous mind, he was imboldened to the purpose of
collecting and publishing his poetical attempts ; hoping thereby to
secure funds sufficient to enable him to persevere in the walks of
learning, which, to his glowing fancy, appeared to be strewed with
flowers.
In pursuance of this design he printed proposals ; and, being
“ resolved,^’ to adopt his own language, ‘‘to make one bold push
for the united interests of Pack and Poems,” he once more set out
to sell his merchandise, and obtain patronage to his work.
This expedition was unprofitable : he neither advanced his
fortune, nor received the encouragement of many subscriptions.
Fortunate would it have been for him, if, instead of giving vent to
his spleen at the supposed want of discernment of rising merit, or
lack of taste for the effusions of genius, he had permitted himself
E
VOL. IX.
XVlll
LIFE OF WILSON.
to be admonished of his imprudence by the indifference of the pub-
lic, and had taken that for an act of friendship which his wounded
feelings did not fail to construe into contempt.
But in defiance of discouragement he published his volume,
under the title of Poems, Humorous, Satirical and Serious.”
The writer of this sketch has it now before him ; and finds in it
the following I’emarks, in the hand-writing of the author himself ;
“I published these poems when only twenty-two — an age more
abundant in sail than ballast. Reader, let this soften the rigor of
criticism a little.” Dated, “ Gray’s-Ferry, July 6th, 1804.” These
poems were, in truth, the productions of a boy, who composed them
under the most disadvantageous circumstances. They answered
the purpose for which they were originally intended : to gratify the
partiality of friendship, and alleviate moments of solitude and des-
pondency. Their author, in his riper years, lamented his rashness
in giving them to the world; and it is to be hoped that no one will
be so officious as to draw them from that obscurity to which he
himself sincerely rejoiced to see them condemned.* They went
through two small editions in octavo, the last of which appeared
in 1791. The author reaped no benefit from the publication.
Mortified at the ill success of his literary undertaking, and
probably with the view of withdrawing himself from associates,
who, instead of advancing, rather tended to retard his studies,
Wilson retired to the little village of Lochwinnoch, situated in a
delightful valley, a few miles from Paisley. In this sequestered
place he had before resided ; and he now resorted to it, under the
pressure of disappointment ; and soothed his mind with the em-
ployment of letters ; and spent his vacant hours amid the roman-
tic scenery of a country, which was well calculated to captivate
one who had devoted himself to the service of the muses.
^ Notwithstanding the hope here expressed, an anonymous editor, influenced, doubtless,
by sordid motives, published a selection from Wilson’s poems, at Paisley, in the year 1816;
and prefixed to it a crude biographical sketch of the author.
LIFE OF WILSON.
XIX
While residing at Lochwinnocli he contributed some short
prose essays to the Bee, a periodical work which was published at
Edinburgh by Dr. Anderson. Of the merits of these essays I can-
not speak, as I have never seen them. He also occasionally visit-
ed the latter place, to frequent the Pantheon, wherein a society for
debate held their meetings. In this assembly of minor wits he
delivered several poetical discourses, which obtained him consider-
able applause. The particulars of these literary peregrinations
have been minutely related to me ; but, at this time, I will merely
state, that he always performed his journies on foot ; and that his
ardour to obtain distinction, drawing him away from his profes-
sion, the only means of procuring subsistence, he was frequently
reduced to the want of the necessaries of life.
Wilson, in common with many, was desirous of becoming
personally acquainted with the poet Burns, who was now in the
zenith of his glory ; and an accidental circumstance brought them
together. The interview appeared to be pleasing to both ; and
they parted with the intention of continuing their acquaintance by
a correspondence. But this design, though happily begun, was
frustrated by an imprudent act of the former, who, in a criticism
on the tale of Tam O’Shanter, remarked of a certain passage that
there was “ too much of the briite^^ in it. The paragraph alluded
to is that which begins thus ;
“ Now Tam, O Tam ! had thae been queans.”
Burns, in reply, observed : “ If ever you write again to so iri'itable
a creature as a poet, I beg you will use a gentler epithet than to
say there is too much of the brute in any thing he says or does.’’
Here the correspondence closed.
From Lochwinnocli Wilson returned to Paisley; and again
sought subsistence by mechanical labour. But at this period the
result of the French revolution had become evident by the wars
enkindled on the continent; and their influence on the manufac-
tures of Great Britain, particularly those of Paisley, began to he
XX
LIFE OF WILSON.
felt. Revolution principles had also crept in among the artisans,
which, superadded to the decline of business, were the means of
many being thrown out of stated employment ; and the distress of
others was not a little aggravated by exactions which it was sup-
posed neither policy nor justice ought to have dictated. Hence
arose a misunderstanding between the manufactui^ers and the
weavers, which soon grew into a controversy, that awakened the
zeal of both parties ; and Wilson, incited by principle, as well as
intei'est, remained not idle on an occasion which seemed to de-
mand the exercise of his talents for the benefit of the poor and
the oppressed.
Among the manufacturers there was one of considerable
wealth and influence ; who had risen from a low origin by a con-
currence of fortunate circumstances ; and who had rendered him-
self greatly conspicuous by his avarice and knavery. This ob-
noxious individual was arraigned in a galling satire, written in the
Scottish dialect ; which is well known to be fertile of terms of sar-
casm or reproach. The piece was published anonymously; and,
being suited to the taste of the multitude, was read with eagerness.
But the subject of it, stung to the quick by the severity of the
censure, sought revenge of his concealed enemy, who, through
some unforeseen occurrence, was revealed in the person of Wilson.
A prosecution for a libel was the consequence of the disclosure ;
and our satirist was sentenced to a short imprisonment, and to
burn, with his own hands, the poem at the public cross in the
town of Paisley. Wilson underwent the sentence of the law, sur-
rounded by his friends, a gallant and numerous band, who viewed
him as a mai’tyr to the cause of honour and truth; and who, while
his character was exalted in their opinion, failed not to stigmatize
that of his adversary in all the bitterness of contempt. The prin-
ter, it is said, was fined for his share in the publication,
in the year 1792, Wilson wrote his characteristic tale of
Watty and Meg,” the last poem which he composed in Scotland.
LIFE OF WILSON.
XXI
It was published without a name ; and, possessing considerable
merit, was, by many, attributed to Burns, This ascription certain*
ly showed a want of discrimination, as this production displays
none of those felicities of diction, none of that peculiar intermixture
of pathos and humour, which are so conspicuous in the writings of
Burns,. It has obtained more popularity in Scotland than any of
the minor essays of our author ; and has been ranked with the best
productions of the Scottish muse.
Cromek, in his sketch of Wilson^s life, adverting to the prose-
cution above mentioned, says, that “the remembrance of this mis-
fortune dwelt upon his mind, and rendered him dissatisfied with his
country. Another cause of Wilson’s dejection was the rising fame
of Burns, and the indifference of the public to his own produc-
tions. He may be said to have envied the Ayrshire bard, and to
this envy may be attributed his best production, ‘Watty and Meg,’
which he wrote at Edinburgh in 1793 (1792). He sent it to Niel-
son, printer, at Paisley, who had suffered by the publication of his
former poems. As it was, by the advice of his friends, published
anonymously, it was generally ascribed to Burns, and went rapidly
through seven or eight editions. Wilson, however, shared no part
of the profits, willing to compensate for the former losses his pub-
lisher had sustained.”*
The sketch above mentioned the author of this narrative show-
ed to Wilson, and the latter told him that the relation was want-
ing in correctness. He pointedly denied the charge of envying the
Ayrshire bard, and felt not a little scandalized at the unworthy im-
putation. He added, that no one entertained a more exalted idea
of Burns’s genius, or I’ejoiced more at his merited success, than
himself.
Wilson now began to be dissatisfied with his lot. He was
* Cromek’s “ Select Scottish Songs,” vol. 2, p, 214. London, 1810.
V
VOL. IX.
XXll
LIFE OF WILSON-
poor, and had no prospect of bettering his condition in his native
country. Having heai'd flattering accounts of America, he con-
ceived the design of emigrating thither, and settling in the United
States.
It was some time in the latter part of the year 1793 that the
resolution was formed of forsaking the land of his forefathers. His
eye having been accidentally directed to a newspaper advertise-
ment, which stated that the American ship Swift would sail from
the port of Belfast, in Ireland, on the first of May following, with
passengers for Philadelphia, he communicated his scheme, in con-
fidence,, to his nephew, Mr. William Duncan, then a lad of sixteen,
who consented to become his fellow-traveller in the voyage ; and
an agreement was entered into of departing in the above mentioned
ship.
The next subject of consideration was the procuring of funds;
and as weaving presented the most eligible plan for this purpose,
to the loom Wilson applied himself, for four months, with a dili-
gence and economy almost surpassing belief ; the whole of his ex-
penses during this period amounting to less than one shilling per
week.
All matters being finally arranged, he set out on foot for Port
Patrick, whence he embarked for Ireland. On reaching Belfast it
was found that the ship had her complement of passengers; but,
rather than remain, after so much exertion, Wilson and his compa-
nion consented to sleep upon deck, and, consequently, they were
permitted to depart in the ship, which sailed about the middle of
May, and arrived at Newcastle, in the state of Delaware, on the
fourteenth of July, 1794.
We now behold Alexander Wilson in a strange land; without
an acquaintance on whose counsels and hospitality he could rely in
that state of uncertainty to which, having no particular object in
view, he was of course subjected ; without a single letter of intro-
LIFE OF WILSON.
XXIH
duction; and with not a shilling in his pocket.* But every care
was forgotten in his transport at finding himself in the land of free-
dom. He had often cast a wishful look towards the western hemi-
sphere, and his warm fancy had suggested the idea, that among
that people only, who maintained the doctrine of an equality of
rights, could political justice be found. He had become indignant
at beholding the influence of the wealthy converted into the means
of oppression; and had imputed the wrongs and sufferings of the
poor, not to the condition of society, but to the nature and consti-
tution of the government. He was now free ; and exulted in his
release, as a bird rejoices which escapes from the confinement of
the cage. Impatient to set his foot upon the soil of the New World,
he landed at the town of Newcastle ; and, shouldering his fowling-
piece, he directed his steps towards Philadelphia, distant about
thirty-three miles. The writer of this biography has a distinet re-
collection of a conversation with Wilson on this part of his history,
wherein he described his sensations on viewing the first bird that
presented itself as he entered the forests of Delaware; it was a red-
headed woodpecker, which he shot, and considered the most beau-
tiful bird he had ever beheld.
On his arrival at Philadelphia, he deliberated upon the most
eligible mode of obtaining a livelihood, to which the state of his
funds urged immediate attention. He made himself known to a
countryman of his, Mr. John Aitken, a copper-plate printer, who,
on being informed of his destitute situation, gave him employment
at this business, at which he continued for a few weeks ; but aban-
doned it for his trade of weaving, having made an engagement with
Mr. Joshua Sullivan, who resided on the Pennypack creek, about
ten miles north of Philadelphia.
* This is Uterally true. The money which bore his expenses from Newcastle to Plnla-
delphia was borrowed of a fellow passenger. The same generous friend, whose name was Oh-
ver made him subsequently a loan of cash to enable him to travel mto Virginia.
XXIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
The confinement of the loom did not agree either with Wil-
son’s habits or inclinations ; and learning that there was consider-
able encouragement afforded to settlers in Virginia, he migrated
thither, and took up his residence near Shepherd’s Town, in that
part of the state known by the name of New Virginia.* Here he
again found himself necessitated to engage in the same sedentary
occupation ; and soon becoming disgusted with the place, he re-
turned to the mansion of his friend, Mr. Sullivan.
I find from one of his journals, that, in the autumn of the year
1795, he travelled through the north part of the state of Newjer-
sey, with an acquaintance, in the capacity of a pedler, and met
with tolerable success.
His diary of this journey is interesting. It was written with
so much care, that one is tempted to conjecture that he spent more
time in literary occupation than in vending his merchandise. It
contains observations on the manners of the people ; and remarks
on the principal natural productions of Newjersey; with sketches
of the most noted indigenous quadrupeds and birds. In these
sketches one is enabled to perceive the dawning of that talent for
description, which was afterwards revealed with so much lustre.
On his return from this trading adventure, he opened a school
on the Oxford road, about five miles to the north of Frankford,
^ The habits of the people with whom Wilson was compelled to associate, in this sec-
tion of the state, it should seem, gave him no satisfaction ; and the life he led added not a
little to the chagrin which he suffered on finding himself an alien to those social pleasures
which, hitherto, had tended to sweeten his existence. His letters at this period would, no
doubt, afford some curious particulars, illustrative of his varied life ; but none of them have
fallen into my hands. The following extract from some of his manuscript verses will lead to
the conclusion that he did not quit Virginia with regret :
“ Farewell to Virginia, to Berkley adieu.
Where, like Jacob, our days have been evil and few 1
So few — they seem’d really but one lengthen’d curse ;
And so bad — that the Devil could have only sent worse.”
LIFE OF WILSON.
XXV
Pennsylvania. But being dissatisfied with this situation, he remo-
ved to Milestown, and taught in the schoolhouse of that village.
In this latter place he continued for several years ; and being defi-
cient in the various branches of learning necessary to qualify him
for an instructor of youth, he applied himself to study with great
diligence ; and acquired all liis knowledge of the mathematics,
which was considerable, solely by his own exertions. To teaching
he superadded the vocation of surveying; and was occasionally
employed, by the neighbouring farmers, in this business.
Whilst I'esiding at Milestown, he made a journey, on foot, to
the Genessee country, in the state of Newyork, for the purpose of
visiting his nephew, Mr. William Duncan, who resided upon a small
farm, which was their joint property. This farm they had been
enabled to purchase through the assistance of Mr. Sullivan, the
gentleman in whose employ Wilson had been, as before stated.
The object of this purchase, which some might deem an act of im-
prudence in those whose slender funds did not suffice without the
aid of a loan, was to procure an asylum for Mr. Duncan’s mother
and her family of small children, whom poverty and misfortune
had, a short time before, driven to this country. This was some-
what a fatiguing journey to a pedestrian, who, in the space of
twenty-eight days, travelled nearly eight hundred miles.
The life of Wilson now becomes interesting, as we are ena-
bled, by a selection from his letters, to present him to the reader
as his own biographer.
VOL. IX.
G
XXVI
LIFE OF WILSON.
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.*
Milestoivn^ July 1, 1800.
“ Dear Bill,
“ I had the pleasure of yours by the hands of
Mr. P. this day; and about four weeks ago I had another, dh'ected
to Mr. Dobson’s care, both of which were as Avelcome to me as any
thing, but your own self, could be. I am just as you left me, only
my school has been thinner this season than formerly.
“I have had four letters from home, all of which I have answer-
ed. Their news are — Dull trade — provisions most exorbitantly
high — R.’s sister dead — the Seedhills mill burnt to the ground —
and some other things of less consequence.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
I doubt much if stills could be got up in time to do any thing
at the distilling business this winter. Perhaps it might be a safer
way to take them up, in the spring, by the Susquehanna. But if
you are determined, and think that we should engage in the busi-
ness, I shall be able to send them up either way. P. tells me that
his two stills cost about forty pounds. I want to hear more deci-
sively from you before I determine. Sooner than live in a country
exposed to the ague, I would remain where I am.
“ O. comes out to stay with me two months, to learn survey-
ing, algebra, &c. I have been employed in several places about
this summer to survey, and have acquitted myself with credit, and
to my own satisfaction. I should not be afraid to engage in any
job with the instruments I have. * ^
“ S. continues to increase in bulk, money and respectability :
a continual current of elevenpenny bits pouring in, and but few run-
ning out.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
^ Mr. Duncan at this time resided upon the farm mentioned above, which was situated
in the township of Ovid, Cayuga county, Newyorlc.
t
LIFE OF WILSON.
xxvu
“We are very anxious to hear how you got up; and well
pleased that you played the Horse Jockey so luckily. If you are
fixed in the design of distilling, you will write me, by the first
opportunity, before winter sets in, so that I may arrange matters
in time.
“ I have got the schoolhouse enlarged, by contributions among
the neighbours. In summer the school is, in reality, not mucli;
but in winter, I shall be able to teach with both pleasure and profit.
at ^ ^ ^ *
“ When I told R. of his sister^s death, ‘ I expected so,’ said
Jamie, ‘any other news that’s curious ?’ So completely does long
absence blunt the strongest feelings of affection and friendship.
May it never be so with you and me, if we should never meet again.
On my part it is impossible, except God, in his wrath, should de-
prive me of my present soul, and animate me with some other.”
Wilson next changed his residence for one in the village of
Bloomfield, Newjersey, where he again opened a school. But
being advised of a more agreeable and lucrative situation, he soli-
cited, and received, an engagement from the trustees of Union
School, situated in the township of Kingsess or Kingsessing, a short
distance from Gray’s Ferry, on the river Schuylkill, and about four
miles from Philadelphia.
This removal constituted an important era in the life of Wil-
son. His schoolhouse and residence being but a short distance
from Bartram’s Botanic Garden, situated on the western bank of
the Schuylkill : a sequestered spot, possessing attractions of no or-
dinary kind; an acquaintance was soon contracted with that vene-
rable naturalist, Mr. William Bartram,* which grew into an un-
common friendship, and continued without the least abatement
until severed by death. Here it was that Wilson found himself
* The author of “ Travels through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West
Florida,” &c. This excellent gentleman closed his long and useful life on the 22d July, 1823,
in the eighty-fourth year of his age.
XXVlll
LIFE OF WILSON.
translated, if we may so speak, into a new existence. He had
long been a lover of the works of Nature, and had derived more
happiness from the contemplation of her simple beauties, than
from any other source of gratification. But he had hitherto been
a mere novice ; he was now about to receive instructions from one,
whom the experience of a long life, spent in travel and rural retire-
ment, had rendered qualified to teach. Mr. Bartram soon percei-
ved the bent of his friend’s mind, and its congeniality to his own;
and took every pains to encourage him in a study, which, while it
expands the faculties, and purifies the heart, insensibly leads to the
contemplation of the glorious Author of nature himself. From his
youth Wilson had been an observer of the manners of birds ; and
since his arrival in America he had found them objects of uncom-
mon interest; but he had not yet viewed them with the eye of a
naturalist.
Mr. Bartram possessed some works on natural history, parti-
cularly those of Catesby and Edwai’ds. Wilson perused them
attentively; and found himself enabled, even with his slender stock
of information, to detect errors and absurdities into which these
authors had fallen, from a defective mode of studying nature : a
mode, which, while it led them to the repositories of dried skins
and preparations, and to a reliance on hearsay evidence, subjected
them to the imputation of ignorance, which their lives, devoted to
the cultivation and promotion of science, certainly would not jus-
tify. Wilson’s improvement was now rapid; and the judicious
criticisms which he made on the above-mentioned authors, grati-
fied his friend and instructor, who redoubled his encouraging assis-
tance, in order to further him in a pursuit for which his genius,
now beginning to develope itself, was evidently fitted.
LIFE OF WILSON.
XXIX
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
“ Gi'ay^s Ferry, October 30, 1802.
Dear Billy,
“ I was favoured with your despatches a few
hours ago, through the kindness of Colonel Sullivan, who called
on me for that purpose. I have read and re-read, over and over
again, their contents; and shall devote the remainder of this even-
ing to reply to you, and the i^est of the family, now joint tenants
of the woods. By the arrival of John F. here in August last, I
received one letter from my brother David, one from Thomas W.
and one for Alexander from David Wilson; and last week another
packet arrived from Belfast, containing one letter from your father
to myself ; and to your mother, brother and brother-in-law, and
yourself, one each, all of which I have herewith sent, and hope they
may amuse a leisure hour. F. has been wofully disappointed in
the expectations he had formed of his uncle. Instead of being able
to assist him, he found him in the depth of poverty; and fast sink-
ing under a severe fever; probably the arrival of a relation contri-
buted to his recovery; he is now able to crawl about. F. has had
one child born and buried since his arrival. He weaves with Ro-
bertson, but neither likes the situation nor employment. He is a
stout, active and ingenious fellow, can turn his hand to almost any
thing, and wishes as eagerly to get up to the lakes as ever a saint
longed to get to heaven. He gives a most dismal description of
the situation of the poor people of Scotland in 1800.
Your letters, so long expected, have at length relieved me
from much anxiety. I am very sorry that your accommodations
are so few, for my sister’s sake, and the children’s; a fire-place and
comfortable house for the winter must, if possible, be got up with-
out delay. If masons are not to be had, I would attempt to raise
a temporary one myself, I mean a fire-place — but surely they may
H
VOL. IX.
XXX
LIFE OF WILSON.
be had, and lime and stones are also attainable by dint of industry.
These observations are made not from any doubts of your doing
every thing in your power to make your mother as comfortable as
possible, and as your means will enable you, but from a solicitude
for a sister’s health, who has sustained more distress than usual,
I know the rude appearance of the country, and the want of many
usual conveniences, will for some time affect her spirits; let it be
your pleasure and study to banish these melancholy moments from
her as much as possible. Whatever inconveniences they may for
a while experience, it was well they left this devoted city. The
fever, that yellow genius of destruction, has sent many poor mor-
tals to their long homes since you departed ; and the gentleman
who officiates as steward to the Hospital informed me yesterday
evening that it rages worse this week than at any former period
this season, though the physicians have ceased reporting. Every
kind of business has been at a stand these three months, but the
business of death.
You intimate your design of coming down next spring. Alex-
ander seems to have the same intention. How this will be done,
consistent with providing for the family, is not so clear to me. Let
me give my counsel on the subject. You will see by your father’s
letters that he cannot be expected before next July, or August per-
haps, a time when you must of necessity be at home. Your coming
down, considering loss of time and expenses, and calculating what
you might do on the farm, or at the loom, or at other jobs, would
not clear you more than twenty dollars difference, unless you in-
tended to remain here five or six months, in which time much
might be done by you and Alexander on the place. I am sorry he
has been so soon discouraged with farming. Were my strength but
equal to my spirit, I would abandon my school for ever for such
an employment. Habit will reconcile him to all difficulties. It is
more healthy, more independent and agreeable than to be cooped
up in a subterraneous dungeon, surrounded by gloomy damps, and
LIFE OF WILSON.
XXXI
breathing an unwholesome air from morning to night, shut out
from Nature’s fairest scenes and the pure air of heaven. When
necessity demands such a seclusion, it is noble to obey ; but when
we are left to choice, who would bury themselves alive ? It is only
in winter that I would recommend the loom to both of you. In
the month of March next I shall, if well, be able to command two
hundred dollars cash once more. Nothing stands between me and
this but health, and that I hope will continue at least till then. You
may then direct as to the disposal of this money — I shall freely and
cheerfully yield the whole to your management. Another quarter
will enable me to settle John M.’s account, about the time it will
be due ; and, instead of wandering in search of employment five
or six hundred miles for a few dollars, I would beg of you both to
unite in putting the place and house in as good order as possible.
But Alexander can get nothing but wheat and butter for this hag-
ging and slashing! Never mind, my dear namesake, put up awhile
with the rough fare and rough clothing of the country. Let us
only get the place in good order and you shall be no loser by it.
Next summer I will assuredly come up rdong with your father and
George, if he comes as I expect he will, and every thing shall
flourish,
“ My dear frieud and nephew, I wish you could find a leisure
hour in the evening to give the children, particularly Mary, some
instruction in reading, and Alexander in writing and accounts.
Don’t be discouraged though they make but slow progress in both,
but persevere a little every evening. I think you can hardly em-
ploy an hour at night to better purpose. And make James lead
evei'y convenient opportunity. If I live to come up beside you, I
shall take that burden off your shoulders. Be the constant friend
and counsellor of your little colony, to assist them in their diffi-
culties, encourage them in their despondencies, to make them as
happy as circumstances will enable you. A mother, brothers and
sisters, in a foreign country, looking up to you as their best friend
XXXll
LIFE OF AVILSON.
and supporter, places you in a dignified point of view. The future
remembrance of your kind duty to them now, will, in the hour of
your own distress, be as a healing angel of peace to your mind.
Do every thing possible to make your house comfortable — fortify
the garrison in every point — stop every crevice that may let in that
chilling devil, the roaring blustering northwest — heap up fires big
enough for an Indian war-feast — keep the flour-barrel full — bake
loaves like Hamles Head* — make the loom thunder, and the pot
boil; and your snug little cabin re-echo nothing but sounds of do-
mestic felicity. I will write you the moment I hear of George. I
shall do every thing I have said to you, and never lose sight of the
eighteenth of March ; for which purpose I shall keep night school
this winter, and retain every farthing but what necessity inquires —
depend upon me. These are the outlines of my plan. If health
stand it, all will be well; if not, Ave cannot help it. Ruminate on
all this, and consult together. If you still think of coming down,
I hope you would not hesitate for a moment to make my neigh-
bourhood your home. If you come I shall be happy to have you
once more beside me. If you resolve to stay on the farm, and put
things in order as far as possible, I will think you have done what
you thought best. But I forget that my paper is done.
“ Robb, Orr, &c. have escaped as yet from the pestilence; but
Robb’s three children have all had the ague. Rabby Rowan has
gone to Daviess Locker at last: he died in the West Indies. My
brother David talks of coming to America, and my father, poor
old man, Avould be happy to be with you, rough and uncomfortable
as your situation at present is. As soon as I finish this I shall write
to your mother and Alexander. There is a letter for John M.,
which he is requested to answer by his father-in-law. I hope John
will set a firm resolute heart to the undertaking, and plant a poste-
rity in that rich, western country, to perpetuate his name for ever.
The name of a rock near Paisley.
LIFE OF WILSON.
xxxm
Thousands here would rejoice to be in his situation. How happy
may you live thus united together in a free and plentiful country,
after so many years of painful separation, where the bare necessa-
ries of life were all that incessant drudgery could procure, and even
that but barely. Should even sickness visit you, which God forbid,
each of you is surrounded by almost all the friends you have in the
world, to nurse you, and pity and console you ; and surely it is not
the least sad comfort of a death bed, to be attended by afiectionate
relatives. Write me positively by post, two or three times. My
best love to my sister, to Isabella, Alexander, John, the two Maries,
James, Jeany, little Annie. God Almighty bless you all.
“ Your ever aflfectionate friend,
“ALEX. WILSON.”
To ALEXANDER DUNCAN.
October 31, 1802.
“ Dear Alexander,
“ I have laughed on every perusal of your let-
ter. I have now deciphered the whole, except the blots, but 1 fancy
they are only by the way of half mourning for your doleful captivi-
ty in the back woods, where there is nothing but wheat and butter,
eggs and gammon, for hagging down trees. Deplorable ! what
must be done ? It is a good place, you say, for a man who has a
parcel of weans / * * *
“ But forgive this joking. I thank you, most heartily, for this
your^/'5^ letter to me; and I hope you will follow it up with many
more. I shall always reply to them with real pleasure. I am glad
that your chief objection to the country is want of money. No
place is without its inconveniences. Want of the necessaries of
life would be a much greater grievance. If you can, in your pre-
sent situation, procure sufficient of these, though attended with
I
VOL, IX.
XXXIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
particular disadvantages, I would recommend you to persevere
where you are. I would wish you and William to give your joint
labours to putting the place in as good order as possible. A farm
of such land, in good cultivation, is highly valuable ; it will repay
all the labour bestowed upon it a hundred fold; and contains within
it all the powers of plenty and independence. These it only re-
quires industry to bring forth, and a small stock of money to begin
with. The money I doubt not of being able to procure, next sum-
mer, for a year or two, on interest, independent of two hundred dol-
lars of my own, which I hope to possess on or before the middle
of March next. C. S. is very much attached to both your brother
and me ; and has the means in his power to assist us — and I know
he will. In the mean time, if you and William unite in the under-
taking, I promise you, as far as I am concerned, to make it the
best plan you could pursue.
“ Accustom yourself, as much as you can, to working out.
Don’t despise hagging down trees. It is hard work, no doubt ; but
taken moderately, it strengthens the whole sinews; and is a manly
and independent employment. An old weaver is a poor, emacia-
ted, helpless being, shivering over rotten yarn, and groaning over
his empty flour barrel. An old farmer sits in his arm chair before
his jolly fire, while his joists are crowded with hung beef and gam-
mons, and the bounties of Heaven are pouring into his barns. Even
the article of health is a consideration sufficient to make a young
man prefer the labours of the field ; for health is certainly the first
enjoyment of human life. But perhaps weaving holds out advan-
tages that farming does not. Then blend the two together; weave
in the depth of winter, and work out the rest of the year. We will
have it in our power, before next winter, to have a shop, looms, &c.
provided. Consider all I have said, and if I have a wrong view of
the subject, form your own plans, and write me without delay,”
LIFE OF WILSON.
XXXV
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
Gray^s Ferry, December 23, 1802.
The two Mr. Purdies popped into my school, this after-
noon, as unexpected as they were welcome, with news from the
promised land. I shall detain them with me all night, on purpose
to have an opportunity of writing you a few lines. I am glad you
are all well. I hope that this is the last devilish slough of des-
pond which you will have to struggle in for some time. I will do
all that I said to you, in my last, by the middle of March ; so let
care and sorrow be forgotten ; and industry, hope, good-humour
and economy, be your bosom friends.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
“ I succeed tolerably well ; and seem to gain in the esteem of
the people about. I am glad of it, because I hope it will put it in
my power to clear the road a little before you, and banish despon-
dence from the heart of my dearest friend. Be assured that I will
ever as cheerfully contribute to your relief in difficulties, as I will
rejoice with you in prosperity. But we have nothing to fear. One
hundred bushels of wheat, to be sure, is no great marketing ; but
has it not been expended in the support of a mother, and infant
brothers and sisters, thrown upon your bounty in a foreign country?
Robert Burns, when the mice nibbled away his corn, said :
“ ril get a blessin \vi’ the lave,
And never miss ’t.”
“ Where he expected one, you may a thousand. Robin, by his
own confession, ploughed up his mice out of ha^ and hame. You
have built for your little wanderers a cozie Held, where none dare
molest them. There is more true greatness in the affectionate
XXXVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
exertions which you have made for their subsistence and support,
than the bloody catalogue of heroes can boast of. Your own heart
Avill speak peace and satisfaction to you, to the last moment of
your life, for every anxiety you have felt on their account. Colo-
nel Sullivan talks with pride and affection of you.
“ I wish Alexander had written me a few lines of the old Ger-
man text. I laugh every time I look at his last letter: it’s a perfect
antidote against the spleen. Well, Alexander, which is the best
fim, handling the shuttle, or the axe? When JohnM. comes down,
write me largely. And, dear sister, let me hear from you also. * *
“ I would beg leave to suggest to you the propriety of teach-
ing the children to behave with good manners, and dutiful respect,
to yourself, each other, and every body.
“You must excuse me for any thing I may have said amiss,
or any thing I may have omitted to mention. I am, with sincere
attachment, your affectionate friend.”
The foregoing letters place the character of Wilson in the
most amiable point of view; and they entffely supersede any re-
marks which I might make upon those social affections that distin-
guished him through life.
In his new situation Wilson had many enjoyments ; but he
had likewise moments of despondency which solitude tended to
confirm. He had addicted himself to the writing of verses, and
to music ; and, being of a musing turn of mind, had given way to
those seductive feelings which the charming scenery of the country,
in a sensible heart, never fails to awaken. This was a fatal bias,
which all his efforts could not counteractor remove. His acquain-
tance perceived the danger of his state ; and one in whose friend-
ship he had placed strong reliance, and to whom he had freely un-
burthened himself, Mr. Lawson, the engraver, entertained appre-
LIFE OF WILSON.
xxxvu
liensions for the soundness of his intellect.* There was one sub-
ject which contributed not a little to increase his mental gloom,
and this was the consideration of the life of penury and dependence
to which he seemed destined as the teacher of a country school.
Mr. Lawson immediately recommended the renouncing of poetry
and the flute, and the substituting of the amusement of drawing in
their stead, as being most likely to restore the balance of his mind;
and as an employment well adapted to one of his recluse habits
and inclinations. To this end, sketches of the human figure, and
landscapes, were provided for him ; but his attempts were so un-
promising that he threw them aside with disgust; and concluded
that one at his period of life could never succeed in the art of de-
lineation. Mr. Bartram now advised a trial at birds; and being
tolerably skilful himself, exhibited his port-folio, which was graced
with many specimens from his own hands. The attempt was made,
and succeeded beyond the expectation of Wilson or that of his
friends. There was a magic in the employment which aroused all
the energies of his soul ; he saw, as it were, the dayspring of a new
creation; and, from being the humble follower of his instructors,
he was soon qualified to lead the way in the charming art of imita-
ting’the works of the Great Original.
That Wilson likewise undertook the task of delineating flow-
ers, appears from the following note to Mr. Bartram, dated Nov,
20th, 1803 :
* The following incident was communicated to me by Colonel Carr, who had it from
Wilson himself. While the latter laboured under great depression of spirits, in order to sooth
his mind he one day rambled with his gun. The piece by accident slipped from his hand, and,
in making an effort to regain it, the lock was cocked. At that moment had the gun gone off,
it is more than probable that he would have lost Ills life, as the muzzle was opposite to his
breast. When Wilson reflected on the danger which he had escaped, he shuddered at the idea
of the imputation of suicide, which a fatal occurrence, to one in his frame of mind, would have
occasioned. There is room to conjecture that many have accidentally met their end, ivhose
memories have been sullied by the alleged crime of self murder.
VOL. IX.
K
xxxviii LIFE OF WILSON.
“ I have attempted two of those prints which Miss Nancy* so
obligingly, and with so much honour to her own taste, selected for
me. I was quite delighted with the anemone, but fear I have made
but bungling work of it. Such as they are I send them for your
inspection and opinion; neither of them is quite finished. For
your kind advice towards my improvement I I'eturn my most grate-
ful acknowledgments.
“The duties of my profession will not admit me to apply to
this study with the assiduity and perseverance I could Wish. Chief
part of what I do is sketched by candle-light; and for this I am
obliged to sacrifice the pleasures of social life, and the agreeable
moments which I might enjoy in company with you and your
amiable friend. I shall finish the other some time this week; and
shall be happy if what I have done merit your approbation.”
As Wilson advanced in drawing, he made corresponding pro-
gress in the knowledge of Ornithology. He had perused the works
of some of the naturalists of Europe, who had written on the sub-
ject of the birds of America, and became so disgusted with their
caricatured figures, fanciful theories, fables and misrepresentations,
that on turning, as he himself observes, from these barren and
musty records to the magnificent repository of the woods and
fields — the Grand Aviary of Nature^ his delight bordered on ado-
ration.f It was not in the inventions of man that the Divine
Wisdom could be traced; but it was visible in the volume of crea-
tion, wherein are inscribed the Author’s lessons of goodness and
love, in the conformation, the habitudes, melody and migrations,
of the feathered tribes, that beautiful portion of the work of his
hands.
To invite the attention of his fellow-eitizens to a study atten-
ded with so much pleasure and improvement, was the natural wish
* Mr. Bartram’s niece, now the consort of Col. Carr, f See preface to vol. v, passim.
LIFE OF WILSON*
XXXIX
of one who had been educated in the School of Wisdom. He
humbly thought it would not be rendering an unacceptable service
to the Great Master of Creation himself, to derive from
objects that every where present themselves in our rural walks,
not only amusement and instruction, but the highest incitements
to piety and virtue. Moreover, self-gratification, that source of so
many of our virtuous actions, had its share in urging him to com-
municate his observations to others.* He examined the strength
of his mind, and its resources; the undertaking seemed hazardous;
he pondered it for a long while before he ventured to mention it to
his friends. At length the subject was made known to Mr. Bar-
tram, who freely expressed his confidence in the abilities and ac-
quirements of Wilson; but, from a knowledge of the situation and
circumstances of the latter, hinted his fears that the difficulties
which stood in the way of such an enterprise were almost too great
to be overcome. Wilson was not easily intimidated ; the very
mention of difficulties suggested to his mind the means of sur-
mounting them, and the glory which would accrue from such an
achievement. He had a ready answer to every objection of his
cautious friend ; and evinced such enthusiasm, that Mr, Bartram
trembled lest his intemperate zeal should lead him into a situation,
from the embarrassments of which he could not well be extricated.
The scheme was unfolded to Mr. Lawson, and met with his
cordial approbation. But he observed that there were several con-
siderations which should have their weight, in determining in an
affair of so much importance. These were frankly stated ; and
followed by advice, which did not quadrate with the temperament
of Wilson ; who, vexed that his friend would not enter into his
feelings, expressed his scorn of the maxims of prudence with which
he was assailed, by styling them the offspring of a co/^/, calculating.
Introduction to vol. i.
xl
LIFE OF WILSON.
selfish philosophy. Under date of March 12th, 1804, he thus writes
to the last named gentleman :
“ I dare say you begin to think me very ungenerous and un-
friendly in not seeing you for so long a time. I will simply state
the cause, and I know you will excuse me. Six days in one week
I have no more time than just to swallow my meals, and return to
my Smictiim Sanctorum, Five days of the following week are oc-
cupied in the same routine of pedagoguing matters ; and the other
two are sacrificed to that itch for drawing, which I caught from
your honourable self. I never was more wishful to spend an after-
noon with you. In three weeks I shall have a few days vacancy,
and mean to be in town chief part of the time. I am most ear-
nestly bent on pursuing my plan of making a collection of all the
birds in this part of North America. Now I don’t want you to
throw cold water, as Shakspeare says, on this notion, Quixotic as
it may appear. I have been so long accustomed to the building of
airy castles and brain windmills, that it has become one of my
earthly comforts, a sort of a rough bone, that amuses me when
sated with the dull drudgery of life.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
March 29, 1804.
“ Three months have passed away since I had the pleasure of
seeing you ; and three dark and heavy months they have been to
your family. My heart has shared in your distress, and sincerely
sympathizes with you for the loss you have sustained. But Time,
the great curer of every grief, will gradually heal those wounds
which Misfortune has inflicted ; and many years of tranquillity and
happiness are, I sincerely hope, reserved for you.
“I have been prevented from seeing you so long by the hurry
of a crowded school, which occupied all my hours of daylight, and
LIFE OF WILSON.
xli
frequently half the others. The next quarter will leave me time
enough ; and, as there is no man living in whose company I have
more real satisfaction, I hope you will pardon me if I now and then
steal a little of your leisure,
“ I send for your amusement a few attempts at some of our
indigenous birds, hoping that your good nature will excuse their
deficiencies, while you point them out to me. I intended to be the
bearer of them myself, but having so many little accounts to draw
up before to-morrow, I am compelled to plead this as my excuse.
I am almost ashamed to send you these drawings ; but I know your
generous disposition will induce you to encourage one in whom you
perceive a sincere and eager wish to do well. They were chiefly
coloured by candlelight.
“ I have now got my collection of native birds considerably en-
larged ; and shall endeavour, if possible, to obtain all the smaller
ones this summer. Be pleased to mark on the drawings, with a pen-
cil, the names of each bird, as, except three or four, I do not know
them. I shall be extremely obliged to you for every hint that will
assist me in this agreeable amusement.
“I am very anxious to see the performances of your fair pu-
pil ; and beg you would assure her from me that any of the birds I
have are heartily at her service. Surely Nature is preferable, to
copy after, to the works of the best masters, though perhaps more
difiicult ; for I declare that the face of an Owl, and the back of a
Lark, have put me to a nonplus ; and if Miss Nancy will be so
obliging as to try her hand on the last mentioned, I will furnish hei
with one in good order ; and will copy her drawing with the great-
est pleasure ; having spent almost a week on two different ones,
and afterwards destroyed them both, and got nearly in the slough
of despond.”
VOL. IX.
L
xlii
LIFE OF WILSON.
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Kingsessing^ Marcfh 31, 1804.
“ I take the first few moments I have had since receiving your
letter, to thank you for your obliging attention to my little attempts
at drawing; and for the very affectionate expressions of esteem
with which you honour me. But sorry I am, indeed, that afflic-
tions so severe, as those you mention, should fall where so much
worth and sensibility reside, while the profligate, the unthinking
and unfeeling, so frequently pass through life, strangers to sickness,
adversity or suffering. But God visits those with distress whose
enjoyments he wishes to render more exquisite. The storms of
affliction do not last for ever; and sweet is the serene air, and warm
sunshine, after a day of darkness and tempest. Our friend has,
indeed, passed away, in the bloom of youth and expectation ; but
nothing has happened but what almost every day’s experience
teaches us to expect. How many millions of beautiful flowers have
flourished and faded under your eye; and how often has the whole
profusion of blossoms, the hopes of a whole year, been blasted by
an untimely frost. He has gone only a little before us ; we must
soon follow ; but while the feelings of nature cannot be repressed,
it is our duty to bow with humble resignation to the decisions of
the great Father of all, rather receiving with gratitude the blessings
he is pleased to bestow, than repining at the loss of those he thinks
proper to take from us. But allow me, my dear friend, to with-
draw your thoughts from so melancholy a subject, since the best
way to avoid the force of any ovei'powering passion, is to turn its
direction another way.
^^That lovely season is now approaching, when the garden,
woods and fields, will again display their foliage and flowers. Every
day we may expect strangers, flocking from the south, to fill our
woods with harmony. The pencil of Nature is now at work, and
LIFE OF WILSON.
xliii
outlines, tints, and gradations of lights and shades, that baffle all
description, will soon be spread before us by that great master, our
most benevolent friend and father. Let us cheerfully participate
in the feast he is preparing for all our senses. Let us survey those
millions of green strangers, just peeping into day, as so many happy
messengers come to proclaim the power and munificence of the
Creator. I confess that I was always an enthusiast in my admii a-
tion of the rural scenery of Nature; but, since your example and
encouragement have set me to attempt to imitate her productions,
I see new beauties in every bird, plant or flower, I contemplate; and
find my ideas of the incomprehensible first cause still more exalted,
the more minutely I examine his works.
“I sometimes smile to think that while others are immersed
in deep schemes of speculation and aggrandizement — in building
towns, and purchasing plantations, I am entranced in contempla-
tion over the plumage of a lark, or gazing, like a despairing lover,
on the lineaments of an owl. While others are hoarding up their
bags of money, without the power of enjoying it, I am collecting,
without injuring my conscience, or wounding my peace of mind,
those beautiful specimens of Nature’s works that are for ever pleas-
ing, I have had live crows, hawks and owls — opossums, squirrels,
snakes, lizards, &c., so that my room has sometimes reminded me
of Noah’s ark ; but Noah had a wife in one corner of it, and in this
particular our parallel does not altogether tally. I receive every
subject of natural history that is brought to me, and though they
do not march into my ark, from all quarters, as they did into that
of our great ancestor, yet I find means, by the distribution of a few
five penny hits, to make them find the way fast enough. A boy,
not long ago, brought me a large basket full of crows. I expect
his next load will be bull-frogs, if I don’t soon issue orders to the
contrary. One of my boys caught a mouse in school, a few days
ago, and directly marched up to me with his prisoner. 1 set about
drawing it that same evening, and all the while the panlings of its
xliv
LIFE OF WILSON.
little heart showed it to be in the most extreme agonies of fear. 1
liad intended to kill it, in order to fix it in the claws of a stuffed
owl, but happening to spill a few drops of water near where it was
tied, it lapped it up with such eagerness, and looked in my face
with such an eye of supplicating terror, as perfectly overcame me.
I immediately untied it, and restored it to life and liberty. The
agonies of a prisoner at the stake, while the fire and instruments
of torment are preparing, could not be more severe than the suffer-
ings of that poor mouse ; and, insignificant as the object was, I felt
at that moment the sweet sensations that mercy leaves on the mind
when she triumphs over cruelty.
“ My dear friend, you see I take the liberty of an old acquaint-
ance with you, in thus trifling with your time. You have already
raised me out of the slough of despond, by the hopes of your agree-
able conversation, and that of your amiable pupil. Nobody, I am
sure, rejoices more in her acquisition of the beautiful accomplish-
ment of drawing than myself. I hope she will persevere. I am
persuaded that any pains you bestow on her will be rewarded be-
yond your expectations. Besides, it will be a new link in that
chain of friendship and consanguinity by which you are already
united ; though I fear it will be a powerful addition to that attrac-
tion which was fully sufficient before, to make even a virtuoso quit
his owls and opossums, and think of something else,”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
May 21, 1804.
“ I send you a few more imitations of birds for your opinion,
which I value beyond that of any body else, though I am seriously
apprehensive that I am troublesome. These are the last I shall
draw for some time, as the employment consumes every leisure
moment, leaving nothing for friendship, or those rural recreations
LIFE OF WILSON.
xlv
which I so much delight in. Even poetry, whose heavenly enthu-
siasm I used to glory in, can hardly ever find me at home, so much
has this bewitching amusement engrossed all my senses.
“ Please to send me the names of the birds. I wish to draw
a small flower, in order to represent the Humming-bird in the act
of feeding : will you be so good as to send me one suitable, and not
too large ? The legs and feet of some are unfinished ; they are all
miserably imperfect, but your generous candour I know to be be-
yond all their defects.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
June 15, 1804.
I have arranged my business for our little journey ; and, if
to-morrow be fair, I shall have the chaise ready for you at any
time in the morning, say seven o’clock. Or if you think any other
hour more suitable, please to let me know by the bearer, and I
shall make it answerable to me.”
June 16, 1804.
“ I believe we had better put off our intended jaunt until some
more auspicious day.
Clouds, from Eastern regions driven,
Still obscure the gloomy skies ;
Let us yield, since angry Heaven
Frowns upon our enterprise.
Haply some unseen disaster
Hung impending o’er our way,
Which our kind almighty master
Saw, and sought us thus to stay.
VOL. IX.
M
xlvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
By and by, when fair Aurora
Bids the drowsy fogs to fly,
And the glorious god of Flora
Rises in a cloudless sky,
“ Then, in whirling chariot seated.
With my friend I’ll gladly go :
With his converse richly treated —
Happy to be honoured so.”
The inconveniences of his situation, as teacher of a country
school, determined Wilson to endeavour after some employment
more congenial to his disposition ; and that would enable him to
attain to that distinction, as a scholar, which he was anxious to me-
rit. He consequently directed his views to the “ Literary Maga-
zine,” conducted by C. B. Brown, a monthly publication of some
note, as a suitable vehicle for the diffusion of those productions
which he hoped would arrest the attention of the public. In this
magazine appeared his “ Rural Walk,” and his Solitary Tutor;”
but it does not appear that their author received any other reward
for his well-meant endeavours than the thanks of the publisher.
He was flattered, it is true, by a republication, in the Port Folio, of
the “Rural Walk,” with some “commendations of its beauties;^
but I must confess that my perspicacity has not enabled me to de-
tect them.
The then editor of the Port Folio, Mr. Dennie, enjoyed the
reputation of being a man of taste and judgement; and the major
part of his selections should seem to prove that his character, in
these respects, was well founded. But with regard to the poem in
question, I am totally at a loss to discover by what principles of
criticism he judged it, seeing that his opinion of it will by no means
accord with mine. The initial stanza, which is not an unfair spe-
cimen of the whole, runs thus ;
LIFE OF WILSON.
xlvii
The summer sun was riding high,
The woods in deepest verdure drest;
From care and clouds of dust to fly.
Across yon bubbling brook I past/’
The reader of classical poetry may well pardon me if, out of an
effusion consisting of forty-four stanzas, I save him the task of
reading any more than one.
To Mr. LAWSON.
Gray^s Ferry ^ August 14, 1804.
“ Dear Sir,
“ Enclosed is a copy of the “ Solitary Tutor which
I should like to see in the Literary Magazine” of this month,
along with the other poem which I sent the editor last week.
Wishing, for my future benefit, to call the public attention to these
pieces, if, in the editor’s opinion, they should seem worthy of it, I
must request the favour of you to converse with him on this subject.
You know the numerous pieces I am in possession of, would put it
in my power to support tolerably well any recommendation he
might bestow on these ; and while they would not, I trust, disgrace
the pages of his valuable publication, they might serve as my in-
troduction to the literary world, and as a sort of inspiration to some
future and more finished attempts. Knowing that you will freely
pardon the quantum of vanity that suggested these hints,
“I remain, with real regard, &c.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Union School, September 17? 1804.
“The second volume of Pinkerton’s Geography has at lenglli
made its appearance; and I take the freedom of transmitting it,
xlviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
and the atlas, for your amusement. To condemn so extensive a
work before a re-perusal, or without taking into consideration all
the difficulties that were to be surmounted, is, perhaps, not altoge-
ther fair. Yet we almost always form our judgement from the first
impressions, and this judgement is very seldom relinquished. You
will, therefore, excuse me if I give you some of the impressions
made on myself by a cursory perusal.
“ Taking it all in alU it is certainly the best treatise on the
subject hitherto published; though had the author extended his
plan, and, instead of two, given us four volumes, it would not fre-
quently have laid him under the necessity of disappointing his read-
er by the bare mention of things that required greater illustration;
and of compressing the natural history of whole regions into half
a page. Only thirty-four pages allotted to the whole United States!
This is brevity with a vengeance. I had indeed expected from the
exertions of Dr, Barton as complete an account of the natural his-
tory of this part of the world as his means of information, and the
limits of the work, would admit. I have been miserably disap-
pointed; and you will pardon me when I say that his omitting en-
tirely the least reference to your researches in Botany and Tioo-
logy, and seeming so solicitous to let us know of his own pro-
ductions, bespeak a narrowness of mind, and self consequence,
which are truly despicable. Every one acquainted with you both
would have confidently trusted that he would rejoice in the oppor-
tunity of making the world better acquainted with a man whose
works show such a minute and intimate knowledge of these sub-
jects; and from whom he had received so much information. But
no — not even the slightest allusion, lest posterity might discover
that there existed, at this time, in the United States, a naturalist of
information superior to his. My dear sir, I am a Scotchman, and
don’t love my friends with that cold selfish prudence which I see
in some ; and if I offend in thus speaking from the fulness of my
heart, I know you will forgive me.
LIFE OF WILSON.
xlix
Pinkerton has, indeed, furnished us with many curious par-
ticulars unknown, or, at least, unnoticed, by all former geogra-
phers; and also with other items long since exploded as fabulous
and ridiculous ; such is his account of the Upas or poisonous tree;
and of children having been lost in some of our American swamps,
and of being seen many years afterwards, in a wild savage state !
But he very gravely tells his readers that the people of Scotland
eat little or no pork from a prejudice which they entertain against
swine, the Devil having taken possession of some of them two thou-
sand years ago! What an enlightened people these Scots must be;
and what a delicate taste they must be possessed of! Yet I have
traversed nearly three-fourths of that country, and mixed much
with the common people, and never heard of such an objection be-
fore. Had the learned author told his readers that, until late years,
Scotland, though abounding in rich pastures, even to its mountain
tops, was yet but poorly productive in grain, fruit, &c, the usual
food of hogs, and that on this account innumerable herds of sheep,
horses and cattle were raised, and but very little pork, he would
then have stated the simple facts; and not subjected himself to the
laughter of every native of that part of Britain.
“ As to the pretended antipathy of the Scots to eels, because
they resemble snakes, it is equally ridiculous and improbable; nine-
ty-nine out of a hundred of the natives never saw a snake in their
lives. The fact is, it is as usual to eat eels in Scotland, where they
can be got, as it is in America; and although I have frequently
heard such objections made to the eating of eels here, where snakes
are so common, yet I do not remember to have heard the compari-
son made in Scotland. I have taken notice of these two observa-
tions of his, because they are applied generally to the Scots, making
them appear a weak squeamish-stomached set of beings, infected
with all the prejudices and antipathies of children.
VOL. IX.
N
1
LIFE OF WILSON.
“ These are some of my objections to this work, which, how-
ever, in other respects, does honour to the talents, learning, and
industry of the compiler.”
In the month of October, 1804, Wilson, accompanied with two
of his friends, set out on a pedestrian journey to visit the far-famed
cataract of Niagara, whereof he had heard much, but which he had
never had an opportunity of beholding. The picturesque scenery
of that beautiful river, the vastness and sublimity of the cataract,
as might be expected, filled the bosom of our traveller with the
most rapturous emotions. And he ever after declared that no lan-
guage Avas sufficiently comprehensive to convey an adequate idea
of that wonderful curiosity.
On the return of Wilson, he employed his leisure moments in
writing a poetical narrative of the journey. This poem, which
contains some interesting description, and pleasing imagery, is en-
titled ‘^The Foresters and was gratuitously tendered to the
proprietors of the Port Folio, and published in that excellent mis-
cellany, in the years 1809 — 10.
This expedition was undertaken rather too late in the season,
and, consequently, our travellers were subjected to hardships of
which they were not aware. Winter overtook them whilst in the
Genessee country, in their return by the way of Albany; and they
were compelled to trudge the greater part of the i*oute through
snow midleg deep.
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
“ Graif s Ferry, December \5th, 1804.
“ Though now snug at home, looking back in recollection on
the long, circuitous, journey which I have at length finished, through
LIFE OF WILSON.
li
deep snows, and almost uninhabited forests ; over stupendous moun-
tains, and down dangerous rivers : passing over, in a course of thir-
teen hundred miles, as great a variety of men and modes of living,
as the same extent of country can exhibit in any part of the United
States — though in this tour I have had every disadvantage of deep
roads and rough weather ; hurried marches, and many other in-
conveniences to encounter, — yet so far am I from being satisfied
with what I have seen, or discouraged by the fatigues which every
traveller must submit to, that I feel more eager than ever to com-
mence some more extensive expedition ; where scenes and subjects
entirely new, and generally unknown, might reward my curiosity ;
and where perhaps my humble acquisitions might add something
to the stores of knowledge. For all the hazards and privations in-
cident to such an undertaking, I feel confident in my own spirit
and resolution. With no family to enchain my affections ; no ties
but those of friendship ; and the most ardent love of my adopted
country — with a constitution which hardens amidst fatigues ; and a
disposition sociable and open, which can find itself at home by an
Indian fire in the depth of the woods, as well as in the best apart-
ment of the civilized ; I have at present a real design of becoming
a traveller. But I am miserably deficient in many acquirements
absolutely necessary for such a character. Botany, Mineralogy,
and Drawing, I most ardently wish to be instructed in, and with
these I should fear nothing. Can I yet make any progress in Bo-
tany, sufficient to enable me to be useful ? and what would be the
most proper way to proceed ? I have many leisure moments that
should be devoted to this pursuit, provided I could have hopes of
succeeding. Your opinion on this subject will confer an additional
obligation on your affectionate friend.”
It is worthy of remark, that when men of uncommon talents
conceive any great scheme, they usually overlook those circum-
stances of minor importance, which ordinary minds would estimate
lii
LIFE OF WILSON.
as first deserving attention. Thus Wilson, with an intellect ex-
panded with information, and still grasping at further improvement
as a means of distinction, would fain become a traveller, even at
the very moment when the sum total of his funds amounted to se-
venty-five cents !
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
Gray’s Feri'y^ December 24, 1804.
You have no doubt looked for this letter long ago, but I
wanted to see how matters would finally settle with i‘espect to my
school before I wrote; they remain, however, as uncertain as before;
and this quarter will do little more than defray my board and fire-
wood. Comfortable intelligence truly, methinks I hear you say ;
but no matter. * * * *
“ I shall begin where you and I left off our story, viz. at Au-
rora, on the shores of the Cayuga.* The evening of that day, Isaac
and I lodged at the outlet of Owasco Lake, on the turnpike, seven
or eight miles from Cayuga bridge; we waded into the stream,
washed our boots and pantaloons, and walked up to a contemptible
dram-shop, where, taking possession of one side of the fire, we sat
deafened with the noise and hubbub of a parcel of drunken trades-
men. At five next morning we started ; it had frozen ; and the
road was in many places deep and slippery. I insensibly got into
a hard step of walking ; Isaac kept groaning a rod or so behind,
though I carried his gun. * ^ Qff again ; and we
stopped at the outlet of Skaneateles Lake ; ate some pork-blubber
and bread ; and departed. At about two in the afternoon we pas-
sed Onondaga Hollow, and lodged in Manlius square, a village of
thirty houses, that have risen like mushrooms in two or three
* Mr. Duncan remained among his friends at Aurora.
LIFE OF WILSON.
liii
years ; having walked this day thirty-four miles. On the morning
of the 22d we started as usual by five — road rough — and Isaac
grunting and lagging behind. This day we were joined by another
young traveller, returning home to his father s on the Mohauk ,
he had a pocket bottle, and made frequent and long applications
of it to his lips. The road this day bad, and the snow deeper than
before. Passing through Oneida castle, I visited every house with-
in three hundred yards of the road, and chatted to the copper-co-
loured tribe. In the evening we lodged at Lards’ tavern, within
eleven miles of Utica, the roads deplorably bad, and Isaac and his
disconsolate companion groaning at every step behind me, so that,
as drummers do in battle, I was frequently obliged to keep before,
and sing some lively ditty, to drown the sound of their ohs ! and
ahs ! and O Lords ! The road for fifteen or twenty miles was knee
deep of mud. We entered Utica at nine the next morning. This
place is three times larger than it was four years ago ; and from
Oneida to Utica is almost an entire continued village. This even-
ing we lodged on the east side of the Mohawk, fifteen miles below
Utica, near which I shot a bird of the size of a Mocking-bird, which
proves to be one never yet described by naturalists. I have it here
in excellent order. From the town called Herkimer we set ofl
through deep mud, and some snow; and about mid-day, between
East and West Canada Creeks, I shot three birds of the Jay kind,
all of one species, which appears to be undescribed. Mr. Bartram
is greatly pleased at the discovery ; and I have saved two of them
in tolerable condition. Below the Little Falls the road was exces-
sively bad, and Isaac was almost in despair, in spite of all I could
do to encourage him. We walked this day twenty-four miles ; and
early on the 25th started off again through deep mud, till we came
within fifteen miles of Schenectady, when a boat coming down the
river, Isaac expressed a wish to get on board. I walked six miles
afterwards by myself, till it got so dark that I could hardly rescue
myself from the mud holes. The next morning I entered Schenec-
VOL. IX.
O
]iv
LIFE OF WILSON.
tady, but Isaac did not arrive, in the boat, till noon. Here we took
the stage-coach for Albany, the roads being excessively bad, and ar-
rived there in the evening. After spending two days in Albany, we
departed in a sloop, and reached Newyork on Saturday, at noon,
the first of December. My boots were now reduced to legs and up-
per leathers; and my pantaloons in a sad plight. Twelve dol-
lars were expended on these two articles. * * * *
“On Friday, the 7th December, I reached Gray’s Ferry, hav-
ing walked forty-seven miles that day. I was absent two months
on this journey, and I traversed in that time upwards of twelve
hundred miles.
“ The evening of my arrival I went to L.’s, whose wife had
got twins, a boy and a girl. The boy was called after me: this
honour took six dollars more from me. After paying for a cord of
wood, I was left with only three quarters of a dollar.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Union School, December 24, 1804.
“ I have perused Dr. Barton’s publication,* and return it with
many thanks for the agreeable and unexpected treat it has afibrd-
ed me. The description of the Falls of Niagara is, in some places,
a just, though faint, delineation of that stupendous cataract. But
many interesting particulars are omitted; and much of the writer’s
reasoning on the improbability of Xhc^xvearmg away of the precipice,
and consequent recession of the Falls, seems contradicted by every
appearance there; and many other assertions are incorrect. Yet
on such a subject every thing, however trifling, seems to attract
attention : the reader’s imagination supplying him with scenery in
* The Philadelphia Medical and Physical Journal, vol. 1.
LIFE OF WILSON.
Iv
abundance, even amidst the feebleness and barrenness of the mean-
est writer’s description.
“ After this article, I was most agreeably amused with “ Anec-
dotes of an American Crow,” written in such a pleasing style of
playful humour as I have seldom seen surpassed ; and forming a
perfect antidote against the spleen; abounding, at the same time,
with observations and reflections not unworthy of a philosopher.
“ The sketch of your father’s life, with the extracts from his
letters, I read with much pleasure. They will remain lasting mo-
numents of the worth and respectability of the father, as well as of
the filial affection of the son.
The description of the Chactaw Bonepickers is a picture so
horrible, that I think nothing can exceed it. Many other pieces
in this work are new and interesting. It cannot fail to promote
the knowledge of natural history, and deserves, on this account,
every support and encouragement.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
“ December 26, 1804.
“I send for your amusement the Literary Magazine” for
September, in which you will find a well written, and, except in a
few places, a correct description of the great Falls of Niagara. 1
yesterday saw a drawing of them, taken in 1768? and observe that
many large rocks, that used formerly to appear in the rapids above
the Horseshoe falls, are now swept away; and the form of the curve
considerably altered, the consequence of its gradual retrogression.
I hope this account will entertain you, as I think it by far the most
complete I have yet seen.”
VI
LIFE OF WILSON.
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
lujigsessmg, February 20, 1805.
“ I received yours of January 1, and wrote immediately ; but
partly through negligence, and partly through accident, it has not
been put into the post office ; and I now sit down to give you some
additional particulars.
This winter has been entirely lost to me, as well as to your-
self. I shall on the twelfth of next month be scarcely able to col-
lect a sufficiency to pay my board, having not more than twenty-
seven scholars. Five or six families, who used to send me their
children, have been almost in a state of starvation. The rivers
Schuylkill and Delaware are still shut, and wagons are passing and
repassing at this moment upon the ice.
“ The solitary hours of this winter I have employed in com-
pleting the poem which I originally intended for a description of
your first journey to Ovid. It is now so altered as to bear little
resemblance to the original ; and I have named it the Foresters.”
It begins with a description of the Fall or Indian Summer, and re-
lates, minutely, our peregrinations and adventures until our arrival
at Catharine Landing, occupying ten hundred and thirty lines.
The remainder will occupy nearly as much ; and as I shall, if ever
I publish it, insert numerous notes, I should be glad, if, while you
are on the spot, you would collect every interesting anecdote you
can of the country, and of the places which we passed through.
Hunting stories, &c., peculiar to the would be acceptable.
I should be extremely glad to spend one afternoon with you for
the benefit of your criticisms. I lent the poem to Mr. ^ ^ *
our senator, Avho seems to think it worth reading ; and ^ ^ ^
has expressed many flattering compliments on my labours ; but I
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ivii
don’t value either of their opinions so much as I would yours. I
have bestowed more pains upon this than I ever did upon any for-
mer poem ; and if it contain nothing really good, I shall for ever
despair of producing any other that will.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
March 4, 1805.
“ My dear friend,
^‘This day the heart of every republican, of
every good man, within the immense limits of our happy country,
will leap with joy.
“ The re-appointment and continuance of our beloved Jeffer-
son to superinted our national concerns, is one of those distinguish-
ed blessings whose beneficent effects extend to posterity ; and whose
value our hearts may feel, but can never express.
“ I congratulate with you, my dear friend, on this happy event.
The enlightened philosopher, — the distinguished naturalist^ — the
jirst statesman on earthy — the friend, the ornament of science, is the
father of our country, the faithful guardian of our liberties. May
the precious fruits of such preeminent talents long, long be ours :
and the grateful effusions of millions of freemen, at a far distant
period, follow their aged and honoured patriot to the peaceful
tomb.
I am at present engaged in drawing the two birds which I
brought from the Mohawk ; and, if I can finish them to your ap-
probation, I intend to transmit them to our excellent president, as
the child of an amiable parent presents to its affectionate father
some little token of its esteem.”
VOL. IX.
P
Iviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
Gray^s Ferry, March 26, 1805.
“ I received your letter of January 1, sometime about the be-
ginning of February \ and wrote the same evening very fully ; but
have heard nothing in return. Col. S. desires me to tell you to be
in no uneasiness, nor part with the place to a disadvantage on his
account. His son has been with me since January, I told you in
my last of the thinness of my school : it produced me the last quar-
ter only twenty-six scholars ; and the sum oi fifteen dollars was all
the money I could raise from them at the end of the term. I im-
mediately called the trustees together, and, stating the affair to
them, proposed giving up the school. Two of them on the spot
offered to subscribe between them one hundred dollars a year, ra-
ther than permit me to go ; and it was agreed to call a meeting of
the people : the result was honourable to me, for forty-eight scholars
were instantly subscribed for ; so that the ensuing six months my
school will be worth pretty near two hundred dollars. So much
for my affairs. »
I have never had a scrap from Scotland since last summer ;
but I am much more anxious to hear from you. I hope you have
weathered this terrible winter ; and that your heart and your limbs
are as sound as ever. I also most devoutly wish that matters could
be managed so that we could be together. This farm must either
be sold, or let ; it must not for ever be a great gulf between us. I
have spent most of my leisure hours this winter in writing the “ Fo-
resters,’’ a poem descriptive of our journey. I have brought it up
only to my shooting expedition at the head of the Seneca Lake ;
and it amounts already to twelve hundred lines. I hope that when
you and I meet, it will afford you more pleasui’e than any of my
productions has ever done. The two nondescript birds* which I
* One of these birds was the Canada Jay, (Am. Orn. vol. 3, p. 33.) which was known to
naturalists.
LIFE OF WILSON.
lix
killed on the Mohawk, attracted the notice of several naturalists
about Philadelphia. On the fourth of March I set to work upon a
large sheet of fine drawing paper, and in ten days I finished two
faithful drawings of them, far superior to any that I had done be-
fore. In the back ground I represented a view of the Falls of Ni-
agara, with the woods wrought in as finely as I possibly could do.
Mr. Lawson was highly pleased with it, and Mr. Bartram was even
more so. I then wrote a letter to that best of men, Mr. Jefferson,
which Mr. Bartram enclosed in one of his, (both of which, at least
copies of them, I shall show you when we meet,) and sent off the
whole, carefully rolled up, by the mail, on the 20th inst. to Monti-
cello, in Virginia. The Jay I presented to Mr. Peale, at his re-
quest ; and it is now in the museum. I have done but few other
drawings, being so intent on the poem. I hope if you find any cu-
rious birds, you will attempt to preserve them, or at least their
skins ; if a small bird be carefully skinned, it can easily be set up
at any time. I still intend to complete my collection of drawings ;
but the last will be by far the best. ^
“ The poor of Philadelphia have suffered extremely this win-
ter, the river having been frozen up for more than two months ;
yet the ice went away without doing any damage, I must again
request that you and Alexander would collect the skins of as many
birds as you have not seen here, # * * * 'Phe process of
skinning the birds may amuse you ; and your collections will be
exceedingly agreeable to me. In the mean time never lose sight
of getting rid of the troublesome farm, if it can be done with ad-
vantage ; so that we may once more be together ; and write to me
frequently.
“ I have now nothing more to say, but to give my affectionate
compliments to your mother and all the family ; and to wish you
every comfort that the state of society you are in can afford. With
the great volume of Nature before you, you can never, while in
health, be without amusement. Keep a diary of every thing you
lx
LIFE OF WILSON.
meet with that is curious. Look out, now and then, for natural
curiosities as you traverse your farm; and remember me as you
wander through your woody solitudes.’’
From Mr. JEFFERSON.
Monticello, April 7? 1805.
« Sir,
“ I received here yesterday your favour of March 18,
with the elegant drawings of the new birds you found on your tour
to Niagara, for which I pray you to accept my thanks. The Jay
is quite unknown to me. From my observations while in Europe,
on the birds and quadrupeds of that quarter, I am of opinion there
is not in our continent a single bird or quadruped which is not suf-
ficiently unlike all the members of it’s family there to be consider-
ed as specifically different ; on this general observation I conclude
with confidence that your Jay is not a European bird.
The first bird on the same sheet I judge to be a Muscicapa
from it’s bill, as well as from the following circumstance. Two or
three days before my arrival here a neighbour killed a bird, xin-
known to him, and never before seen here, as far as he could learn;
it was brought to me soon after I arrived; but in the dusk of the
evening, and so putrid that it could not be approached but with
disgust. But I retain a sufficiently exact idea of it’s form and co-
lours to be satisfied it is the same with yours. The only difference
I find in yours is that the white on the back is not so pure, and
that the one I saw had a little of a crest. Your figure, compared
with the white bellied Gobe-mouche^ 8 Buff. 342. PL enlum. 566.
shews a near relation. Buffon’s is dark on the back.
“ As you are curious in birds, there is one well worthy your
attention, to be found, or rather heard, in every part of America,
and yet scarcely ever to be seen; it is in all the forests, from spring
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixi
to fall, and never but on the tops of the tallest trees, from which it
perpetually serenades us with some of the sweetest notes, and as
clear as those of the nightingale, I have followed it for miles
without ever, but once, getting a good view of it. It is of the size
and make of the Mocking-bird, lightly thrush-coloured on the back,
and a greyish-white on the breast and belly. Mr. Randolph, my
son-in-law, was in possession of one which had been shot by a
neighbour; he pronounces this also a Muscicapa, and I think it
much resembling the Moucherolle de la Martmique, 8 Buffon, 374,
PI. enlum. 568. As it abounds in all the neighbourhood of Phila-
delphia, you may perhaps by patience and perseverance (of which
much will be requisite) get a sight, if not a possession of it. I have
for twenty years interested the young sportsmen of my neighbour-
hood to shoot me one ; but as yet without success. Accept my sa-
lutations and assurances of respect.
»TH. JEFFERSON.’’
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
April \ %th, 1805,
‘^By Mr. Jefferson’s condescending and very intelligent letter
to me, which I enclose for your perusal, it appears that our Jay is
an entirely new, or rather undescribed bird, which met me on the
banks of the Mohawk, to do me the honour of ushering him to the
world. This duty I have conscientiously discharged, by introducing
him to two naturalists : the one endeared to me, and every lover
of science, by the benevolence of his heart; and the other ordained
by Heaven to move in a distinguished orbit — an honour to the hu-
man race — the patron of science^ and best hope of republicans ! I
say, that no bird, since Noah’s days, could boast of such distin-
guished honour.
VOL. IX.
Q
Ixii
LIFE OF WILSON.
« Mr. Jeflfersoii speaks of a very strange bird ; please let me
know what it is ; I shall be on the look out, and he must be a sly
fellow if he escape me. I shall watch his motions, and the sound
of his serenade^ pretty closely, to be able to transmit to our worthy
president a faithful sketch of a bird, which he has been so long cu-
rious to possess.”
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
Gray^s Ferry ^ May 1805.
“ I am glad to understand that the plantation is increasing so
fast in value, but more so that it is not either sold or otherwise dis-
posed of at the low rate at which we would have once thrown it
away ; yet it is the perpetual cause of separating us, which I am
very sorry for. I am living a mere hermit, not spending one far-
thing, to see if I possibly can reimburse who I can see is not
so courteous and affable as formerly. I hope to be able to pay
him one hundred dollars, with interest, next October, and the I’e-
mainder in the spring ; we shall then be clear of the world ; and I
don^t care how many privations I suffer to effect that. I associate
with nobody ; spend my leisure hours in drawing, wandering
through the woods, or playing upon the violin.
“ I informed you in my last of sending Mr. Jefferson drawings
of the Falls, and some birds, which I found on the Mohawk, and
which it seems have never been taken notice of by any naturalist.
He returned me a very kind and agreeable letter, from Monticello,
expressing many obligations for the drawings, which he was highly
pleased with; and describing to me a bird, which he is very desir-
ous of possessing, having interested the young sportsmen of his
neighbourhood, he says, these twenty years, to shoot him one, with-
out success. It is of the size and make of the Mocking-bird, lightly
thrush-coloured on the back, and greyish-white on the breast; is
LIFE OF WILSON.
nevei’ heard but from the tops of the tallest trees, whence it contin-
ually serenades us with some of the sweetest notes, and as clear as
those of the nightingale. Mr. Bartram can give no account of this
bird, except it be the Wood Robin, which I don’t think it is ; for
Mr. Jefferson says it is scarcely ever to be seen;^ and “ I have fol-
lowed it for miles without ever, but once, getting a good view of
it.”* I have been on the look-out ever since, but in vain. If you
can hear of such a bird, let me know. I wish you also to look for
the new bird which I discovered. It is of the size of the Blue Jay;
and is of that genus — of a dull lead colour on the back — the fore-
head white — black on the back of the neck — the breast and belly
a dirty, or brownish white, with a white ring round its neck — its
legs and bill exactly the Jay’s. Pray inquire respecting it, and
any other new bird. If they could be conveyed to me, drawings
of them, presented to the same dignified character, might open the
road to a better acquaintance, and something better might follow.
Alexander and you will, I hope, be on the look-out with the gun,
and kill every bird that comes in your way; and keep written de-
scriptions, or the skins, if possible, of those you don’t know. Were
I able, I would undertake another journey up to you through the
woods, while the birds are abundant; and nothing would give me
so much pleasure as to make another extensive tour with you for
this purpose; for I am persuaded that there are many species yet
undescribed ; and Mr. Jefferson is anxious to replenish his museum
with the rare productions of his country.”
* After many inquiries, and an unwearied research, it turned out that this invisible mu-
sician was no other than the Wood Robin, a bird which, if sought for in those places wliich it
affects, may be seen every hour of the day. Its favourite haunts Wilson has beautifully described
in its history ; but so far from being found always “ on the tops of the tallest trees,” it is seldom
seen in such places, but seems to prefer the horizontal branches, at no great height, especially
when piping its exquisitely melodious song. One of its names, the Ground Robin, is derived
from the circumstance of its being frequently seen upon the ground. Its song consists of
several distinct parts, at the conclusion of each of which it commonly flies a few feet, and rests
just long enough to continue the strain. A person unacquainted with these particulars, would
suppose that he heard several birds, in various quarters, responding to each other, and would
find it hard to believe that the whole tvas the performance of one.
Ixiv
LIFE OF WILSON.
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
Gray’s Ferry, May 31, 1805.
“ Yesterday evening I was finishing a Hanging-bird in my si-
lent mansion, musing upon a certain aflFair, when Mr. L. popped
his head in at the window, with a letter. I instantly laid down
my pencil, and enjoyed a social C7'ack with my distant friend ; and
was heartily and truly pleased with the upshot. In every thing re-
lative to this land business, you have acted amidst difficulties and
discouragements with prudence and discretion. In refusing to en-
gage with * ^ ^ you acted well ; and I doubt not but you will
be equally circumspect in making a transfer of the property, so that
the Yankee will not be able, even if he were willing, to take you in.
More than half of the roguery of one half of mankind is owing to
the simplicity of the other half. You have my hearty concurrence
in the whole affair, for I impatiently wish you beside me, not only
to enjoy your society and friendship, but to open to you the book
of knowledge, and enable you, in your turn, to teach it to others.
In plain language, I wish you to prosecute your studies with me a
few months ; a school will soon be found, and you can then pursue
them without expense, and I trust with pleasure. The business
has indeed its cares, but affords leisure for many amusements ; and
is decent and reputable when properly discharged. I am living in
solitude; spending nothing; diligently attending to the duties of
the day; and filling up every leisure moment with drawing and
music. I have bought no clothes, nor shall I, this summer; there-
fore if you settle the matter with ^ ^ ^ as you have agreed, we can
discharge our obligations to ^ ^ * *, and be in a state to go on with
your studies for at least six months. Mr. * * * * was hei’e yester-
day, and expressed many acknowledgments for the rapid progress
is making, for indeed I have exerted myself to pay my obli-
gations to the father by my attentions to the son.
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixv
“ I wrote you respecting the letter I had from the President,
I have never been able to get a sight of the bird he mentions. I
hope you will not neglect to bring your gun with you, and look out
as you come along,
“ I have done no more to the Foresters.''’ The journey is
brought up to my expedition upon the Seneca Lake, I am much
in want of notes of the first settlement, and present state, of the
different places that we passed, as we went up the Susquehannah ;
every thing of this kind, with hunting anecdotes, &c. I wish you to
collect in your way down. The remainder of the poem will, I
hope, be superior to what is already written, the scenery and inci-
dents being more interesting ; and will extend to at least another
fifteen hundred lines, which will make in all about three thousand.*
The notes wull swell it to a tolerable size.
“ The “ Rural JFalk,” which I published last summer in the
Literary Magazine, has been lately republished in the Port Folio,*]*
with many commendations on its beauties. The Solitary Tutor”
met with much approbation. But I reserve my best efforts for the
remainder of the “ Foresters/^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
“I have not mentioned any thing of the sale of the land, nor
shall I until the business is finally concluded. I shall expect to
hear from you at least twice yet before you arrive ; and I hope you
will make no unnecessary delay in returning. As you cut a pretty
ragged appearance at present, and want something to laugh at,
suppose you set your muse to work upon your tatterdemalian dis-
habille. The former neatness of your garb, contrasted with its
present squalidness, would make a capital subject for a song, not
forgetting the causes. But you are in the dress of the people you
live among; : vou are therefore in character. B. had a hat on when
O y
* This poem, as published in the Port Folio, contains two thousand two hundred and
eighteen lines. It is illustrated with four plates, two of which were engraved by George Cooke
of London.
f For April 27, 1805.
VOL. IX.
R
Ixvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
I was up in your quarter, the rim of which had been eaten oflF, close
to his head, by the rats, or, perhaps, cut off to make soles to his
shoes; yet it was so common as to escape observation. I saw ano-
ther fellow, too, at the tavern, who had pieces cut out of his hehindy
like a swallow’s tail.” * ^ ^
The spring of the year 1805 gave to the enraptured view of
our Naturalist his interesting feathered acquaintance. He listened
to their artless songs; he noted their habitudes; he sketched their
portraits. And, after having passed a few months varied with this
charming occupation, he again writes to the respected inhabitant
of the Botanic Garden :
Union School, July 2, 1805.
“ I dare say you will smile at my presumption, when I tell
you that I have seriously begun to make a collection of drawings
of the birds to be found in Pennsylvania, or that occasionally pass
through it: twenty-eight, as a beginning, I send for your opinion.
They are, I hope, inferior to what I shall produce, though as close
copies of the originals as I could make. One or two of these I
cannot find either in your nomenclature, or among the seven
volumes of Edwards. I have never been able to find the bird
Mr. Jefferson speaks of, and begin to think that it must be the
Wood Robin, though it seems strange that he should represent it
as so hard to be seen. Any hint for promoting my plan, or ena-
bling me to execute better, I will receive from you with much
pleasure. I have resigned every other amusement, except reading
and fiddling, for this design, which I shall not give up without ma-
king a fair trial.
“ Criticise these, my dear friend, without fear of offending
me — this will instruct, but not discourage me. — For there is not
among all our naturalists one who knows so well what they are,
and how they ought to be represented. In the mean time accept
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixvii
of my best wishes for your happiness — wishes as sincere as ever
one human being breathed for another. To your advice and en-
couraging encomiums I am indebted for these few specimens, and
for all that will follow. They may yet tell posterity that I was
honoured with your friendships and that to your inspiration they owe
their existence^
The plates illustrative of the natural history of Edwards were
etched by the author himself. Wilson had examined them very
attentively, and felt assured that, with a little instruction in the art
of etching, he could produce more accurate delineations; and would
be enabled, by his superior knowledge of colouring, to finish the
figures for his contemplated work in a style not inferior to his
spirited and beautiful drawings from nature.
Mr. Lawson was of course consulted on this occasion, and
cheerfully contributed his advice and assistance in the novel and
difficult enterprise. Wilson procured the copper; and, the former
having laid the varnish, and furnished the necessary tools, he ea-
gerly commenced the important operation, on the successful ter-
mination of which his happiness seemed to depend.
Let the reader pause and reflect on the extravagance of that
enthusiasm, which could lead a person to imagine, that, without
any knowledge of an art derived from experience, he could at once
produce that effect, which is the result only of years of trial and
diligence.
The next day after Wilson had parted from his preceptor,
the latter, to use his own words, was surprised to behold him boun-
cing into his room, crying out — “/ have finished my plate! let us
bite it in with the aquafortis at otice, for I tnust have a proof before
I leave town Lawson burst into laughter at the ludicrous ap-
* For the information of those of our readers, who are unacquainted with the process ot
etching, we subjoin the following explanatory note : —
Upon the polished copper-plate a coat of varnish, of a particular composition, is tliinly spread.
Ixviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
pearance of his friend, animated with impetuous zeal ; and to hu-
mour him granted his request. A proof was taken, but fell far
short of Wilson’s expectations, or of his ideas of correctness. How-
ever, he lost no lime in conferring with Mr. Bartram, to whom lie
wrote as follows :
“ Nov. 29, 1805.
“I have been amusing myself this some time in attempting
to etch ; and now send you a proof-sheet of my first performance
in this way. Be so good as communicate to me your own correc-
tions, and those of your young friend and pupil. I will receive
them as a very kind and particular favour. The drawings which
I also send, that you may compare them together, were done from
birds in full plumage, and in the best order. My next attempt in
etching will perhaps be better, every thing being new to me in this.
I will send you the first impression I receive after I finish the plate.”
In a short time another plate was prepared and completed
with the despatch of the former. In fulfilment of his promise to
his friend, he transmits a proof, accompanied with the following
note :
Mr. Wilson’s affectionate compliments to Mr. Bartram ; and
sends for his amusement and correction another proof of his Birds
of the United States. The colouring being chiefly done last night,
must soften criticism a little. Will be thankful for my friend’s ad-
vice and correction.
“ Mr. Wilson wishes his beloved friend a happy new-year,
and every blessing.”
Saturday^ January Atthy 1806.
The design is then traced, and cut through to the copper, with an instrument termed a point.
A bank of wax is now raised around the plate, and aquafortis poured into the enclosure, which
acid eats into the copper only where the point had past. The length of time requisite for the
successful action of tlie aquafortis, must be determined by the judgement of the operator.
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixix
These essays in etching,* though creditable to Wilson’s inge-
nuity and perseverance, yet by no means afforded satisfaction. He
became now convinced that the point alone was not sufficient to
produce the intended effect ; and that nothing short of the accura-
cy of the graver would in any wise correspond to his ideas of ex-
cellence. But in the art of engraving he had never been instructed ;
and he could not command means sufficient to cover the expense
of the plates even of a single volume, on the magnificent plan which
his comprehensive mind had delineated. A proposition was now
made to Mr. Lawson to engage in the work on a joint concern.
But there were several objections which this gentleman urged, suf-
ficiently weighty, in his opinion, to warrant his non-acceptance of
the offer. Wilson, finding his schemes thus baffled, declared, with
solemn emphasis, his resolution of proceeding alone in the publica-
tion, if it should even cost him his life. I shall at least leaved
continued he, “ a small beacon to point out where I perishecU^
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Jan. 27, 1806.
“ Being in town on Saturday, I took the opportunity of calling
on Mr. , who, in 1804, went down the Ohio, with one compa-
nion, in a small bateau. They sometimes proceeded seventy miles
in twenty-four hours, going often night and day. They had an
awning ; and generally slept on board the boat, without ever catch-
ing cold, or any inconvenience by moschetoes, except when in the
neighbourhood of swamps. He describes the country as exceed-
ingly beautiful. The object of their journey being trade, they had
^ The two first plates of the Ornithology are those which the author etched hinfiself. The
writer of this sketch has in his possession a proof of the first one, which he preserves as a relic
of no small value. It is inscribed with the author’s name.
VOL. IX.
S
Ixx
life of avilson.
neither gun nor fishing-taekle ; and paid little or no attention to
natural objects. He says the navigation of a bateau is perfectly
easy, and attended with no hazard whatever. One solitary adven-
turer passed them in a small boat, going from Wheeling to New-
Orleans.
“ If, my dear friend, we should be so happy as to go together,
what would you think of laying our design before Mr. Jefferson,
with a view to procure his advice, and recommendation to influen-
tial characters in the route ? Could we procure his approbation and
patronage, they would secure our success. Perhaps he might sug-
gest some improvements in our plan. Had we a good companion,
intimately acquainted with mineralogy, who would submit to our
economical plan of proceeding, it would certainly enhance the value
of the expedition. However, this I have no hopes of.
“I see, by the newspapers, that Mr. Jefferson designs to em-
ploy persons to explore the shores of the Mississippi the. ensuing
summer: surely our exertions would promote his wishes. I write
these particulars that you may give them the consideration they
deserve; and will call upon you to deliberate furthei on the affair.
To the Same.
February 3, 1806.
“ The enclosed sketch of a letter is submitted for your opin-
ion, and, if approved, I must request of you the favour to enclose
it in one of your own to Mr. Jefferson. You see I am serious in
my design of traversing our southern wildernesses. Disappointed
in your company, I have no hopes in another’s that would add any
value to the Ohio tour. I am therefore driven to this expedient,
and I hope it will succeed. Please to let me hear your sentiments
on this affair to-morrow morning ; and oblige yours, &c.”
LIFE OF WILSON.
To the Same.
Fehrtiary 5, 1806,
“ I am infinitely obliged to you, my dear friend, for your fa-
vourable opinion of me, transmitted to the president. Should an
engagement be the consequence, I will mei it the character which
you have given of me, or perish in the endeavour to deserve it.
Accept my assurances of perpetual affection and esteem.
“ The letters go off* to-morrow,”
It will be perceived, by the foregoing letters, that the Presi-
dent of the United States had it in contemplation to despatch men
of science, for the purpose of exploring the country of the Missis-
sippi. Wilson now eonceived that a favourable opportunity would
be afforded him of gratifying a desire, which he had long indulged,
of visiting those regions, which he was convinced were rich in the
various objects of science; and, particularly, where subjects, new
and interesting, might be collected for his embryo work on the
Ornithology of our country. He expressed his wishes to Mr. Bar-
tram, who approved of them; and the latter cheerfully wrote to his
correspondent, Mr. Jefferson, stating Wilson’s character and ac-
quirements; and recommending him as one highly qualified to be
employed in that important national enterprise. This introductory
letter, endited in the most respectful terms, was accompanied with
an application from Wilson himself, which, as a faithful biographer
of my friend, I here think proper to insert entire : —
Ixxii
LIFE OF WILSON.
To His Excellency Thomas Jefferson,
President of the United States.
“ Sir,
“Having been engaged, these several years, in collecting
materials and furnishing drawings from nature, with the design of
publishing a new Ornithology of the United States of America, so
deficient in the works of Catesby, Edwards, and other Europeans,
I have ti aversed the greater part of our northern and eastern dis-
tricts ; and have collected many birds undescribed by these natu-
ralists. Upwards of one hundred drawings are completed ; and
two plates in folio already engraved. But as many beautiful tribes
fi equent the Ohio, and the extensive country through which it pas-
ses, that probably never visit the Atlantic states ; and as faithful
representations of these can be taken only from living nature, or
from birds newly killed ; I had planned an expedition down that
river, from Pittsburg to the Mississippi, thence to Neworleans, and
to continue my researches by land in return to Philadelphia. I
had engaged as a companion and assistant Mr. William Bartram
of this place, whose knowledge of Botany, as well as Zoology, would
have enabled me to make the best of the voyage, and to collect
many new specimens in both those departments. Sketches of these
Avere to have been taken on the spot ; and the subjects put in a
state of preservation to finish our drawings from, as time would
permit. Wg intended to set out from Pittsburg about the begin-
ning of May ; and expected to reach Neworleans in September.
“ But my venerable friend, Mr. Bartram, taking into more
serious consideration his advanced age, being near seventy, and
the Aveakness of his eye-sight ; and apprehensive of his inability to
encounter the fatigues and deprivations unavoidable in so exten-
sive a tour ; having, to my extreme regret, and the real loss of
science, been induced to decline the journey ; I had reluctantly
abandoned the enterprise, and all hopes of accomplishing my pur-
LIFE OF WILSON.
pose ; till hearing that your excellency had it in contemplation to
send travellers this ensuing summer up the Red River, the Arkan-
saw, and other tributary streams of the Mississippi ; and believing
that my sei'vices might be of advantage to some of these parties,
in promoting your excellency’s design ; while the best opportuni-
ties would be afforded me of procuring subjects for the work which
I have so much at heart ; under these impressions I beg leave to
offer myself for any of these expeditions ; and can be ready at a
short notice to attend your excellency’s orders.
“ Accustomed to the hardships of travelling, without a family,
and an enthusiast in the pursuit of Natural History, I will devote
my whole powers to merit your excellency’s approbation ; and ar-
dently wish for an opportunity of testifying the sincerity of my
professions, and the deep veneration with which I have the honour
to be,
“ Sir,
“ Your obedient servant,
^^ALEX. WILSON.”^
JCmgsesSi Fcb> 6, 1806.
Mr. Jefferson had in his port-folio decisive proofs of Wilson’s
talents as an ornithologist, the latter having some time before, as
the reader will have observed, transmitted to his excellency some
elegant drawings of birds, accompanied with descriptions. Yet
with these evidences before him, backed with the recommendation
of a discerning and experienced naturalist, Mr. Jefferson was either
so scandalized at the informal application of our ornithologist, or
so occupied in the great concerns of his exalted station, that no an-
swer was returned to the overture ; and the cause of the, supposed,
contemptuous neglect, neither Wilson nor Bartram could ever as-
certain.
* Wilson was particularly anxious to accompany Pike, who commenced his journey from
the cantonment on the Missouri, for the sources of the Arkansaw, 8t.c. on the IStli July, 1806.
VOL. IX.
T
Ixxiv
life of WILSON.
Whatever might have been the views of the President, who un-
questionably bore an effective part in scheming and encouraging
the expeditions commanded by Lewis and Clark, and Pike, there
can be but one opinion on the insufficiency of that plan of discovei y
which does not embrace the co-operation of men of letters and sci-
ence : those whose knowledge will teach them to select what is va-
luable, and whose learning will enable them to digest it for the ad-
vantage of others. W^e would not draw an invidious compaiison
the expeditions above-mentioned, and those under the
command of Major Long; but we will rest in the hope that, as the
government iioxv appears to be sensible of the beneficial effects re-
sulting from a liberal and enlightened policy, it will continue to
foster that spirit of enterprise which distinguishes some of our citi-
zens, and which, if properly directed, will redound to the honour
and glory of our country.
To MR. WILLIAM DUNCAN.
Gray^s Ferry ^ Feb. 26, 1806.
Notwithstanding the great esteem I have for your judge-
ment, in preference, many times, to my own, yet I believe we are
both wrong in the proposed affair of Saturday week. I have not
the smallest ambition of being considered an orator ; and would it
not, by some, be construed into vanity, or something worse, for me
to go all the way from this place to deliver a political lecture at
Milestown ? Politics has begot me so many enemies, both in the
old and new world, and has done me so little good, that I begin to
think the less you and I harangue on that subject the better. I do
not say this from any doubt I have of being able to say something
on the subject, but much question the policy and prudence of it.
If you and I attend punctually to the duties of our profession, and
make our business our pleasure ; and the improvement of our pu-
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxv
pils, with their good government, our chief aim ; honour, and res-
pectability, and success, will assuredly attend us, even if we never
open our lips on politics.
“These have been some of my reflections since we parted. I
hope you will weigh them in your own mind, and acquiesce in my
resolution of not interfering in the debate on Saturday, as we talked
of. At the same time I am really pleased to see the improvement
the practice has produced in you ; and would by no means wish to
dissuade you from amusing and exercising your mind in this man-
ner; because I know that your moderation in sentiment and con-
duct will always preserve you from ill will on any of these scores.
Btit as it could add nothing to my fame, and as they have all heard
me, often enough, on different subjects, about Milestown ; and as
it would raise no new friends to you, but might open old sores in
some of your present friends, I hope you will agree with me that it
will be prudent to decline the affair. And as you have never heard
me deliver any of my own compositions in this way, I will commit
a speech to memory which I delivered at Milestown, in tlie winter
of 1800, and pronounce it to you when we ai’e by ourselves in the
woods, where we can offend nobody,
“ I have heard nothing from Washington yet ; and I begin to
think that either Mr. Jefferson expects a brush with the Spaniards,
or has not received our letters ; otherwise he would never act so
unpolitely to one for whom he has so much esteem as for Mr. Bar-
tram. JVo hurry of business could excuse it. But if affairs are not
likely to be settled with Spain, very probably the design of sending
parties through Louisiana will be suspended. Indeed I begin to
think that if I should not be engaged by Mr. Jefferson, a journey
by myself, and at my own expense, at a time, too, when we are just
getting our heads above water, as one may say, would not be alto-
gether good policy. Perhaps in another year we might be able,
without so much injury, to make a tour together, through part of
the south-west countries, which would double all the pleasures of
Ixxvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
the journey to me. I will proceed in the affair as you may think
best, notwithstanding my eager wishes, and the disagreeableness of
my present situation. I write this letter in the schoolhouse — past
ten at night — L."s folks all gone to roost — the Flying squirrels rat-
tling in the loft above me, and the cats squalling in the cellar below.
Wishing you a continuation of that success in teaching, which has
already done you so much credit, I bid you for the present good-
night."'
We now approach that era of Wilson's life, in which we be-
hold him emerging from the vale of obscurity, and attaining that
enviable distinction, in the republic of science and letters^ which it
is the lot of but few to enjoy.
Mr. Samuel F. Bradford, bookseller, of Philadelphia, being
about to publish an improved edition of Rees's New Cyclopaedia,
Wilson was introduced to him as one qualified to superintend the
work ; and was engaged, at a liberal salary, as assistant editor.
The articles of agreement are dated the 20th of April, 1806.
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Philadelphia^ April 22d, 1806.
“ My dear friend,
“I take the liberty of informing you that
having been importuned to engage as assistant editor of that com-
prehensive and voluminous work, Rees's New Cyclopaedia, now
publishing here, and a generous salary offered me, I have now ac-
cepted of the same, and will commence my new avocation on Mon-
day next.
“ This engagement will, I hope, enable me, in more ways than
one, to proceed in my intended Ornithology, to which all my lei-
sure moments will be devoted. In the mean time I anticipate,
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxvii
with diffidence, the laborious, and very responsible situation I am
soon to be placed in, requiring a much more general fund of scien-
tific knowledge, and stronger powers of mind, than I am possessed
of ; but all these objections have been overruled, and I am engaged,
in conjunction with Mr. S. F. Bradford, to conduct the publication.
In this pursuit I will often solicit your advice, and be happy to
communicate your observations to posterity. Shut up from the
sweet scenes of rural nature, so dear to my soul, conceive to your-
self the pleasures I shall enjoy in sometimes paying a visit to your
charming Retreat, and you cannot doubt of frequently seeing your
very sincere friend.”
Not long after his engagement he unfolded his mind to Mr.
Bradford on the subject of his projected Ornithology ; and exhibit-
ed such evidence of his talents for a work of that nature, that the
latter promptly agreed to become the publisher of it, and to fur-
nish the requisite funds ; and now for the first time Wilson found
those obstructions removed which had opposed his favourite enter-
prise.
To Mr. WILSON at the Falls of Niagara.
Philadelphia, July %th, 1806.
“ Dear Sir,
“ This will be handed to you by Mr. Michaux, a
gentleman of an amiable character, and a distinguished naturalist,
who is pursuing his botanical researches through North America,
and intends visiting the Cataract of Niagara. The kindness I re-
ceived from your family in 1804 makes me desirous that my friend,
Mr. Michaux, should reside with you during his stay at Niagara ;
and any attention paid to him will be considered as done to myself,
and suitable acknowledgments made in person by me on my arri-
val at Niagara, which I expect will be early next spring.
U
VOL. IX.
Ixxviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
“You will be so good as give Mr. Michaux information re-
specting the late rupture of the rock at the falls, of the burning
spring above, and point out to him the place of descent to the ra-
pids below, with any other information respecting the wonderful
scenery around you.
In the short stay I made, and the unfavourable weather I ex-
perienced, I was prevented from finishing my intended sketch equal
to my wishes ; but I design to spend several weeks with you, and
not only take correct drawings, but particular descriptions of every
thing relating to that stupendous Cataract, and to publish a more
complete and satisfactory account, and a better representation, of
it, than has been yet done in the United States.*
“ I had a rough journey home through the Genessee country,
which was covei'ed with snow to the depth of fifteen inches, and
continued so all the way to Albany. If you know of any gentle-
men in your neighbourhood acquainted with botany, be so good as
introduce Mr. Michaux to them.’^
To Mr. WM. DUNCAN.
Philadelphia, April 8, 1807-
“ Enclosed is a proof-sheet of our Prospectus ; as soon as the
impressions are thrown off on fine paper, I will transmit one for
Mr. L. This afternoon Mr. Lawson is to have one of the plates
completely finished ; and I am going to set the copper-plate prin-
ter at work to print each bird in its natural colours, which will be
a great advantage in colouring, as the black ink Avill not then stain
^ Wilson’s subsequent engagements prevented his return to the Falls, in conformity
with his wishes ; but his sketches were completed by an artist, engraved by George Cooke of
London, and illustrate his poem of the “ Foresters,” which was published in the Port Folio.
These well-engraved views, which are two in number, convey a good idea of the famous Cata-
ract ; the “ Great Pitch,” in particular, is admirably represented.
LIFE OF WILSON.
the fine tints. We mean to bind in the Prospectus at the end of
the next half volume, for which purpose twenty-five hundred copies
are to be thrown off ; and an agent will be appointed in every town
in the Union. The Prospectus will also be printed in all the news-
papers ; and every thing done to promote the undertaking.
“ I hope you have made a beginning, and have already a col-
lection of heads, bill and claws, delineated. If this work should «:o
on, it will be a five years affair ; and may open the way to some-
thing more extensive ; for which reason I am anxious to have you
with me to share the harvest.
“ I started this morning, by peep of day, with my gun, for the
purpose of shooting a Nuthatch. After jumping a hundred fences,
and getting over the ancles in mud, (for I had put on my shoes for
lightness,) I found myself almost at the junction of the Schuylkill
and Delaware, without success, there being hardly half an acre of
woodland in the whole neck ; and the Nuthatch generally frequents
large-timbered woods. I returned home at eight o’clock, after get-
ting completely wet, and in a profuse perspiration, which, contrary
to the maxims of the doctors, has done me a great deal of good;
and I intend to repeat the dose ; except that I shall leave out the
ingredient of the wet feet, if otherwise convenient. Were I to pre-
scribe such a remedy to Lawson, he would be ready to think me
mad. Moderate, nay even pretty severe exercise, is the best medi-
cine in the world for sedentary people, and ought not to be ne-
glected on any account.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Philadelphia, April 29, 1807.
“ My dear sir,
“ The receipt of yours of the 11th inst. in which
you approve of my intended publication of American Ornithology,
Ixxx
LIFE OF WILSON.
gave me much satisfaction ; and your promise of befriending me
in the arduous attempt commands my unfeigned gratitude. From
the opportunities I have lately had of examining into the works of
Americans who have treated of this part of our natural history, I
am satisfied that none of them have bestowed such minute attention
on the subject as you yourself have done. Indeed they have done
little more than copied your nomenclature and observations, and
referred to your authority. To have you, therefore, to consult
with in the coui’se of this great publication I consider a most happy
and even auspicious circumstance ; and I hope you will on all oc-
casions be a rigid censor and kind monitor whenever you find me
deviating from the beauties of nature, or the truth of description.
“ The more I read and reflect upon the subject, the more dis-
satisfied I am with the specific names which have been used by al-
most every writer. A name should, if possible, be expressive of
some peculiarity in colour, conformation, or habit ; if it will equal-
ly ripply to two difierent species, it is certainly an improper one.
Is migratoriiis an epithet peculiarly applicable to the Robin? Is it
not equally so to almost every species of Turdus we have ? Euro-
pea has been applied by Pennant to our large Sitta or Nuthatch,
which is certainly a different species from the European, the latter
being destitute of the black head, neck and shoulders of ours. La-
tham calls it Carolinensisy but it is as much an inhabitant of Penn-
sylvania and Newyoik as Carolina. The small red-bellied Sitta
is called Canadensis by Latham, a name equally objectionable with
the other. Turdus minor seems also improper; in short I consider
this part of the business as peculiarly perplexing ; and I beg to
have your opinion on the matter, particularly with respect to the
birds I have mentioned, whether I shall hazard a new nomencla-
ture, or, by copying, sanction what I do not approve of.
“I hope you are in good health, enjoying in your little Para-
dise the advances of spring, shedding leaves, buds and blossoms,
around her ; and bringing in her train choirs of the sweetest song-
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxxi
sters that earth can boast of; while every zephyr that plays around
you breathes fragrance. Ah ! how different my situation in this
delightful season, immured among musty books, and compelled to
forego the harmony of the woods for the everlasting din of the city;
the very face of the blessed heavens involved in soot, and inter-
rupted by walls and chimney tops. But if I don’t launch out into
the woods and fields oftener than I have done these twelve months,
may I be transformed into a street musician.” (The remainder of
the MS. defaced.)
All things being happily arranged, Wilson applied himself to
his varied and extensive duties with a diligence which scarcely ad-
mitted repose ; until finding his health much impaired thereby, he
was induced to seek the benefits of relaxation in a pedestrian jour-
ney through a part of Pennsylvania ; which afforded him a favour-
able opportunity of procuring specimens of birds ; and some addi-
tional information relating to them of which he was very desirous
to be possessed. This excursion was made in the month of August,
1807; and on his return he engaged in his avocations with renew-
ed ardour ; devoting every moment, which could be spared from
his editorial duties, to his great work.
At length in the month of September, 1808, the first volume
of the “ American Ornithology” made its appearance. From
the date of the arrangement with the publisher, a prospectus had
been issued, wherein the nature and intended execution of the w'ork
were specified ; but yet no one appeared to entertain an adequate
idea of the elegant treat which was about to be afforded to the
lovers of the arts, and of useful literature. And when the volume
was presented to the public, their delight was only equalled by
their astonishment, that our country, as yet in its infancy, should
produce an original work in science that could vie, in its essentials,
with the proudest productions, of a similar nature, of the European
world.
VOL. IZ.
X
Ixxxii
LIFE OF WILSON.
To MR. WILLIAM BARTRAM.
Philadelphia, Sept. 21, 1808.
“ In a few minutes I set out for the Eastern States, through
Boston to Maine, and baek through the state of Vermont, in search
of birds and subscribers. I regret that I have not been able to
spend an evening with you before my departure. But I shall have
a better stock of adventures to relate after my return.
“ I send a copy of the prospectus, and my best wishes for the
happiness of the whole family. I leave my horse behind, and go
by the stage coach, as being the least troublesome. I hope to make
some discoveries in my tour, the least agreeable of which will, I
fear, be — that I have bestowed a great deal of labour and expense
to little purpose. But all these things will not prevent me from
enjoying, as I pass along, the glorious face of Nature, and her ad-
mirable productions, while I have eyes to see, and taste and judge-
ment to appreciate them.”
After despatching the above note, Wilson set out on a journey
to the eastward, to exhibit his book, and procure subscribers. He
travelled as far as the District of Maine ; and returned through
Vermont, by the way of Albany, to Philadelphia. From a letter
to a friend, dated Boston, October 10th, 1808, we have made the
following extract :
I have purposely avoided saying any thing either good or
bad on the encouragement I have met with. I shall only say, that
among the many thousands who have examined my book, and
among these were men of the first character for taste and literature,
I have heard nothing but expressions of the highest admiration and
esteem. If I have been mistaken in publishing a work too good
for the country, it is a fault not likely to be soon I’epeated, and will
pretty severely correct itself. But whatever may be the result of
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxxiii
these matters, I shall not sit down with folded hands, whilst any
thing can be done to carry my point : since God helps them who
help themselves. I am fixing correspondents in every corner of
these northern regions, like so many pickets and outposts, so that
scarcely a wren or tit shall be able to pass along, from York to Ca-
nada, but I shall get intelligence of it.”
To Mr. D. H. MILLER.
Boston, October 12, 1808.
Dear Sir,
“ I arrived here on Sunday last, after various adven-
tures, the particulars of which, as well as the observations I have
had leisure to make upon the passing scenery around me, I shall
endeavour, as far as possible, to compress into this letter, for your
own satisfaction, and that of my friends who may be interested for
my welfare. My company in the stage coach to Newyork were all
unknown to me, except Col, S., who was on his route to Fort Os-
wego, on Lake Ontario, to take command of the troops intended to
be stationed on that part of the frontier, to prevent evasions of the
Embargo law. The sociable disposition and affability of the Colo-
nel made this part of the journey pass very agreeably, for both be-
ing fond of walking, whenever the driver stopped to water, or drink
grog, which was generally every six or eight miles, we set out on
foot, and sometimes got on several miles before the coach over-
hauled us. By this method we enjoyed our ride, and with some
little saving of horseflesh, which I know you will approve of. At
Princeton I bade my fellow travellers good bye, as I had to wait
upon the reverend doctors of the college. I took my book under
my arm, put several copies of the prospectus into my pocket, and
walked up to this spacious sanctuary of literature. I could amuse
you with some of my reflections on this occasion, but room will
Ixxxiv
LIFE OF WILSON.
not permit. Dr. Smith, the president, and Dr. McLean, professor
of Natural History, were the only two I found at home. The latter
invited me to tea, and both were much pleased and surprised with
the appearance of the work, I expected to receive some valuable
information from MTeaii on the ornithology of the country, but I
soon found, to my astonishment, that he scarcely knew a sparrow
from a woodpecker. At his particular request, I left a specimen of
the plates with him \ and from what passed between us, I have
hopes that he will pay more attention to this department of his pro-
fession than he has hitherto done. I visited several other literary
characters ; and, at about half past eight, the Pilot coming up, I
took my passage in it to Newbrunswick, which we x’eached at mid-
night, and where I immediately went to bed.
“ The next morning was spent in visiting the few gentlemen
who were likely to patronise my undertaking. I had another task
of the same kind at Elizabethtown ; and, without tiring you with
details that would fill a volume, I shall only say that I reached
Newark that day, having gratified the curiosity, and feasted the
eyes, of a great number of people, who repaid me with the most ex-
travagant compliments, which I would have very willingly ex-
changed for a few simple subscriptions. I spent nearly the whole
of Saturday in Newark, where my book attracted as many starers
as a bear or a mammoth would have done ; and I arrived in New-
york the same evening. The next day I wrote a number of letters,
enclosing copies of the prospectus, to different gentlemen in town.
In the afternoon of Tuesday I took my book, and waited on each
of those gentlemen to whom I had written the preceding day.
Among these I found some friends, but more admirei's. The pro-
fessors of Columbia College expressed much esteem for my per-
formance. The professor of languages, being a Scotchman, and
also a Wilson, seemed to feel all the pride of national partiality so
common to his countrymen ; and would have done me any favour
in his power. I spent the whole of this week traversing the streets.
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxxv
from one particular house to another, till, I believe, I became al-
most as well known as the public crier, or the clerk of the market,
for I could frequently perceive gentlemen point me out to others as
I passed with my book under my arm.
* ^
On Sunday morning, October 2, I went on board a packet for
Newhaven, distant about ninety miles. The wind was favourable,
and carried us rapidly through Hellgate, (a place I had no inten-
tion of calling at in my tour) on the other side of which we found
upwards of sixty vessels beating up for a passage. The Sound
here, between Longisland and the main, is narrowed to less than
half a mile, and filled with small islands, and enormous rocks un-
der water, among which the tide roars and boils violently, and has
proved fatal to many a seaman. At high water it is nearly as
smooth as any other place, and can then be safely passed. The
country, on the Newyork side, is ornamented with handsome villas,
painted white, and surrounded by great numbers of Lombardy
poplars. The breeze increasing to a gale, in eight hours from the
time we set sail the high red-fronted mountain of Newhaven rose
to our view. In two hours more we landed; and, by the stillness
and solemnity of the streets, recollected we were in Newengland,
and that it was Sunday, which latter circumstance had been almost
forgotten on board the packet-boat.
“ This town is situated upon a sandy plain ; and the streets
are shaded with elm trees and poplars. In a large park or com-
mon, covered with grass, and crossed by two streets, and several
foot paths, stand the church, the state house and college buildings,
which last are one hundred and eighty yards in front. From these
structures rise four or five wooden spires, which, in former time,
as one of the professors informed me, were so infested by wood-
peckers, which bored them in all directions, that, to preserve their
steeples from destruction, it became necessary to set people, with
guns, to watch and shoot these invaders of the sanctuary. Just
Y
VOL. IX.
Ixxxvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
about the town the pasture fields and corn look well, but a few
miles off, the countiy is poor and ill cultivated,
‘^The literati of Newhaven received me with politeness and
respect ; and after making my usual rounds, which occupied a day
and a half, I set off for Middletown, twenty-two miles distant.
The country through which I passed was generally flat and sandy —
in some places whole fields were entirely covered with sand, not a
blade of vegetation to be seen, like some parts of Newjersey. Round
Middletown, however, the country is really beautiful — the soil rich;
and here I first saw the river Connecticut, stretching along the east
side of the town, which consists of one very broad street, with
rows of elms on each side. On entering I found the street filled
with troops, it being muster day; and I counted two hundred and
fifty horse, and six hundred foot, all in uniform. The sides of the
street were choaked up with wagons, carts and wheelbarrows, filled
with bread, roast beef, fowls, cheese, liquors, barrels of cider and
rum bottles. Some were singing out, Here’s the best brandy
you ever put into your head!'' others in dozens shouting, “Here’s
the round and sound gingerbi*ead ! most capital gingerbread !” In
one place I observed a row of twenty or thirty country girls, drawn
up with their backs to a fence, and two young fellows supplying
them with rolls of bread from a neighbouring stall, which they ate
with a hearty appetite, keeping nearly as good time with their grin-
ders, as the militia did with their muskets. In another place the
crowd had formed a ring, within which they danced to the catgut
scrapings of an old negro. The spectators looked on with as much
gravity as if they were listening to a sermon ; and the dancers la-
boured with such seriousness, that it seemed more like a penance
imposed on the poor devils, for past sins, than mere amusement.
“ I waited on a Mr. A. of this town ; and by him I was intro-
duced to several others. He also furnished me with a good deal
of information respecting the birds of Newengland. He is a great
sportsman — a man of fortune and education — and has a consider-
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxxvii
able number of stuffed birds, some of which he gave me, besides
letters to several gentlemen of influence in Boston. I endeavoured
to recompense him in the best manner I could, and again pursued
my route to the north-east. The country between this and Hart-
ford is extremely beautiful, much resembling that between Phila-
delphia and Frankford. The road is a hard sandy soil; and in
one place I had an immense prospect of the surrounding country,
nearly equal to that which we saw returning from Easton, but less
covered with woods. On reaching Hartford, I waited on Mr. G.,
a member of congress, who recommended me to several others,
particularly a Mr. W., a gentleman of taste and fortune, who was
extremely obliging. The publisher of a newspaper here expressed
the highest admiration of the work, and has since paid many hand-
some compliments to it in his publication, as three other editors
did in Newyork. This is a species of currency that will neither
purchase plates, nor pay the printer ; but, nevertheless, it is gratify-
ing to the vanity of an author — when nothing better can be got. My
journey from Hartford to Boston, through Springfield, Worcester,
&c. one hundred and twenty-eight miles, it is impossible for me to
detail at this time. From the time I entered Massachusetts, until
within ten miles of Boston, which distance is nearly two thirds the
length of the whole state, I took notice that the principal features
of the country were stony mountains, rocky pasture fields, and hills
and swamps adorned with pines. The fences, in every direction,
are composed of strong stones ; and, unless a few straggling, self-
planted, stunted apple trees, overgrown with moss, deserve the
name, there is hardly an orchard to be seen in ten miles. Every
six or eight miles you come to a meeting-house, painted white, with
a spire. I could perceive little difference in the form or elevation
of their steeples.
“ The people here make no distinction between torvn and town-
ship ; and travellers frequently asked the driver of the stagecoach,
“ What town are we now in when perhaps we were upon the
Ixxxviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
top of a miserable barren mountain, several miles from a house.
It is in vain to reason with the people on the impropriety of this —
custom makes every absurdity proper. There is scarcely any cur-
rency in this country but paper, and I solemnly declare that I do not
recollect having seen one hard dollar since I left Newyork. Bills
even of twenty-five cents, of a hundred different banks, whose very
names one has never heard of before, are continually in circulation.
I say nothing of the jargon which prevails in the country. Their
boasted schools, if I may judge by the state of their schoolhouses,
are no better than our own.
“ Lawyers swarm in every town like locusts ; almost every
door has the word Office painted over it, which, like the web of a
spider, points out the place where the spoiler lurks for his prey.
There is little or no improvement in agriculture ; in fifty miles I
did not observe a single grain or stubble field, though the country
has been cleared and settled these one hundred and fifty years. In
short, the steady habits of a great portion of the inhabitants of those
parts of Newengland through which I passed, seem to be laziness,
law bickerings and * * * A man here is as much ashamed of
being seen walking the streets on Sunday, unless in going and re-
turning from church, as many would be of being seen going to
a ^ ^ ^ ^ house.
As you approach Boston the country improves in its appear-
ance ; the stone fences give place to those of posts and rails ; the
road becomes wide and spacious ; and every thing announces a
better degree of refinement and civilization. It was dark when I
entered Boston, of which I shall give you some account in my next.
I have visited the celebrated Bunker’s Hill, and no devout pilgrim
ever approached the sacred tomb of his holy Prophet with more
awful enthusiasm, and profound veneration, than I felt in tracing
the grass-grown intrenchments of this hallowed spot, made immor-
tal by the bravery of those hex’oes who defended it, whose ashes are
now mingled with its soil, and of whom a mean, beggarly pillar
of bricks is all the memento.”
LIFE OF WILSON.
Ixxxix
To Mr. D. H. MILLER.
Windsor, Vermont, October 26, 1808.
Dear Sir,
“ I wrote you two or three weeks ago from Boston,
where I spent about a week. A Mr. S., formerly piuvate secretary
to John Adams, introduced me to many of the first rank in the
place, Avhose influence procured me an acquaintance with others,
and I journied through the streets of Boston with my book, as I did
at Newyork and other places, visiting all the literary characters I
could find access to.
“ I spent one morning examining Bunker’s Hill, accompanied
by lieutenant Miller and sergeant Carter, two old soldiers of the
Revolution, who were both in that celebrated battle, and who point-
ed out to me a great number of interesting places. The brother of
general Warren, who is a respectable physician of Boston, became
very much my friend, and related to me many other matters res-
pecting the engagement.
“ I visited the University at Cambridge, where thei'e is a fine
library, but the most tumultuous set of students I ever saw.
“ From the top of Bunker’s Hill, Boston, Charlestown, the
ocean, islands and adjacent country, form the most beautifully
varied prospect I ever beheld.
“ The streets of Boston are a perfect labyrinth. The markets
are dirty ; the fish market is so filthy that I will not disgust you
by a description of it. Wherever you walk you hear the most
hideous howling, as if some miserable wretch were expiring on the
wheel at every corner; this, however, is nothing but the draymen
shouting to their horses. Their drays are twenty-eight feet long,
drawn by two horses, and carry ten barrels of flour. From Boston
I set out for Salem, the country between swampy, and in some
places the most barren, I’ocky and desolate in nature. Salem is a
Z
VOL. IX.
xc
LIFE OF WILSON.
neat little town. The wharves were crowded with vessels. One
wharf here is twenty hundred and twenty-two feet long. I staid
here two days, and again set off for Newburyport, through a rocky,
uncultivated, steril country.
^ ^ ^
I travelled on thi’ough Newhampshire, stopping at eveiy
place where I was likely to do any business ; and went as far east
as Portland in Maine, where I staid three days, and, the supreme
court being then sitting, I had an opportunity of seeing and conver-
sing with people from the remotest boundaries of the United States
in this quarter, and received much interesting information from
them with regard to the birds that frequent these northern regions.
From Portland I directed my course across the country, among
dreary savage glens, and mountains covered with pines and hem-
locks, amid whose black and half burnt trunks the everlasting
rocks and stones, that cover this country, “ grinned horribly.”
One hundred and fifty-seven miles brought me to Dartmouth Col-
lege, Newhampshire, on the Vermont line. Here I paid my ad-
dresses to the reverend fathers of literature, and met with a kind
and obliging reception. Dr. Wheelock, the president, made me
eat at his table, and the professors vied with each other to oblige me.
“ I expect to be in Albany in five days, and if the legislature
be sitting, I shall be detained perhaps three days there. In eight
days more I hope to be in Philadelphia. I have laboured with the
zeal of a knight errant in exhibiting this book of mine, wherever
I went, travelling Avith it, like a beggar with his bantling, from town
to town, and from one country to another. I have been loaded with
praises — Avith compliments and kindnesses-— shaken almost to
pieces in stage coaches ; have Avandered among strangers, hearing
the same O^s and A/is, and telling the same story a thousand times
over— -and for Avhat ? Ay, thaCs it ! You are very anxious to know,
and you shall knoAv the Avhole Avhen I reach Philadelphia.”
LIFE OF WILSON.
xci
To Mr. ALEXANDER LAWSON.
Jilbany, November 3, 1808.
“ Dear Sir,
“ Having a few leisure moments at disposal, I M ill
devote them to your service in giving you a sketch of some cir-
cumstances in my long literary pilgrimage, not mentioned in my
letters to Mr. Miller. And in the first place I ought to thank you
for the thousands of compliments I have received for my birds from
persons of all descriptions ; which were chiefly due to the taste and
skill of the engraver. In short, the book, in all its parts, so far ex-
ceeds the ideas and expectations of the first literary charactei's in
the eastern section of the United States, as to command their ad-
miration and respect. The only objection has been the sum of
one hundred and txventy dollars, which, in innumerable instances, has
risen like an evil genius between me and my hopes. Yet I doubt
not but when those copies subscribed for are delivered, and the
book a little better known, the whole number will be disposed of,
and perhaps encouragement given to go on M'ith the rest. To ef-
fect this, to me, most desirable object, I have encountered the fa-
tigues of a long, circuitous, and expensive journey, with a zeal that
has increased with increasing difficulties ; and sorry I am to say
that the whole number of subscribers which I have obtained amounts
only to forty-one,
“ While in Newyork I had the curiosity to call on the cele-
brated author of the “ Rights of Man.” lie lives in Greenwich, a
short way from the city. In the only decent apartment of a small
indifferent-looking frame house, I found this extraordinary man,
sitting wrapt in a night gown, the table before him covered with
newspapers, with pen and ink beside him. Paine’s face w’ould have
excellently suited the character of Bardolph ; but the penetration
XCll
LIFE OF WILSON.
and intelligence of his eye bespeak the man of genius, and of the
world. He complained to me of his inability to walk, an exercise
he was formerly fond of ; — he examined my book, leaf by leaf,
with great attention — desired me to put down his name as a sub-
scriber ; and, after inquiring particularly for Mr. P. and Mr. B.,
Avished to be remembered to both,
“ My journey through almost the whole of Newengland has
rather lowered the Yankees in my esteem. Except a few neat aca-
demies, I found their schoolhouses equally ruinous and deserted
Avith ours — fields covered with stones — stone fences — scrubby oaks
and pine trees — wretched orchards — scarcely one grain field in
twenty miles — the taverns along the road dirty, and filled with
loungers, brawling about laAV suits and politics — the people snap-
pish, and extortioners, lazy, and tAvo hundred years behind the
Pennsylvanians in agricultural improvements. I traversed the
country bordering the river Connecticut for nearly two hundred
miles. Mountains rose on either side, sometimes three, six, or
eight miles apart, the space between almost altogether alluvial ; the
plains fertile, but not half cultivated. From some projecting head-
lands I had immense prospects of the surrounding countries, every
where clothed in pine, hemlock, and scrubby oak.
“ It was late in the evening Avhen I entered Boston, and,
whirling through the narrow, lighted streets, or rather lanes, I could
form but a very imperfect idea of the town. Early the next morn-
ing, resolved to see where I was, I sought out the way to Beacon
Hill, the highest part of the tOAvn, and whence you look down on
the roofs of the houses — the bay interspersed Avith islands — the
ocean— the surrounding country, and distant mountains of New-
hampshire ; but the most singular objects are the long wooden
bridges, of which there are fiA^e or six, some of them three quarters
of a mile long, uniting the towns of Boston and Charlestown with
each other, and with the main land. I looked round Avith an eager
eye for that eminence so justly celebrated in the history of the Re-
LIFE OF WILSON.
xcm
volution of the United States, Bunker’s Hill, but I could see no-
thing that I could think deserving of the name, till a gentleman,
who stood by, pointed out a white monument upon a height beyond
Charlestown, which he said was the place. I explored my way
thither without paying much attention to other passing objects ;
and, in tracing the streets of Charlestown, was astonished and hurt
at the indifference with which the inhabitants directed me to the
place.* I inquired if there were any person still living here who
had been in the battle, and I was directed to a Mr. Miller, who
was a lieutenant in this memorable affair. He is a man of about
sixty— -stout, remarkably fresh coloured, with a benign and manly
countenance. I introduced myself without ceremony— -shook his
hand with sincere cordiality, and said, with some warmth, that 1
was proud of the honour of meeting with one of the heroes of Bun-
ker’s Hill— -the first unconquerable champions of their country.
He looked at me, pressed my hand in his, and the tears instantly
glistened in his eyes, which as instantly called up corresponding
ones in my own. In our way to the place he called on a Mr. Car-
ter, who he said was also in the action, and might recollect some
circumstances which he had forgotten. With these two veterans I
We have here a trait of character worthy of note. Wilson’s enthusiasm did not permit
him to reflect that an object which presents uncommon attractions to one who beholds it for the
first time, can have no such effect upon the minds of the multitude, accustomed to view it froni
their infancy, and in whose breasts those chaste and exquisite feelings which result from taste,
refined by culture, can have no place.
But what Wilson felt upon this occasion was that which almost all men of genius and sen-
sibility experience when similarly situated — that divine enthusiasm, which exalts one, as it were,
above mortality, and which commands our respect in proportion as the subject of it is estimable or
great.
Who has not read, and, having read, who can forget, that admirable passage in Johnson’s
Journey to the Hebrides, wherein the illustrious traveller relates his reflections on his landing up-
on the island of Icolmkill ! “ Far from me, and from my friends,” says he, “ be such frigid
philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been digni-
fied by wisdom, bravery, or virtue.” That this frigid philosophy was a stranger to the soul of
Wilson we have his own declaration in evidence ; and so little skilled was he in the art of con-
cealing his emotions, that on any occasion which awakened his sensibility, he would exhibit the
impulse of simple nature by weeping like a child.
2 A
VOL. IX.
XCIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
spent three hours, the most interesting to me of any of my life.
As they pointed out to me the route of the British- — the American
intrenchments- — the place where the greatest slaughter was made
—-the spot where Warren fell, and where he was thrown amid
heaps of the dead, I felt as though I could have encountered a whole
battalion myself in the same glorious cause. The old soldiers were
highly delighted with my enthusiasm ; we drank a glass of wine to
the memory of the illustrious dead, and parted almost with regret.
“ From Boston to Portland, in the District of Maine, you are
almost always in the neighbourhood, or within sight, of the Atlan-
tic. The country may be called a mere skeleton of rocks, and
fields of sand, in many places entirely destitute of wood, except a
few low scrubby junipers, in others covered with pines of a dimi-
nutive growth. On entering the tavern in Portland, I took up the
newspaper of the day, in which I found my song of Freedom and
Peace, ^ which I afterwards heard read before a numerous compan)^
(for the supreme court was sitting,) with great emphasis, as a most
excellent song ; but I said nothing on the subject.
“ From Portland I steered across the country for the northern
parts of Vermont, among barren, savage, pine-covered mountains,
through regions where nature and art have done infinitely less to
make it a fit residence for man than any country I ever traversed.
Among these dreary tracts I found winter had already commenced,
and the snow several inches deep. I called at Dartmouth College,
the president of which, as well as of all I visited in Newengland,
subscribed. Though sick with a severe cold, and great fatigue, I
continued my route to this place, passing and calling at great num-
bers of small towns in my way.
“ The legislature is at present in session — the newspapers
have to-day taken notice of my book, and inserted my advertise-
* A certain military association of Philadelphia, being disposed to dignify the national cele-
bration of this year, olfered a gold medal for the best song which should be written for the occa-
sion ; and AVilson bore away the prize from many competitors.
LIFE OF WILSON.
xcv
ment — I shall call on the principal people — employ an agent among
some of the booksellers in Albany, and return home by Newyork.”
Wilson after tarrying at home a few days, departed to the
southward, visiting every city and town of importance as far as Sa-
vannah in the state of Georgia. This journey being performed in
the winter, and alone, was of course not attended with many travel-
ling comforts ; and, to avoid the inconveniences of a return by
land, he embarked in a vessel, and arrived at Newyork in the
month of March, 1809. This was rather an unproductive tour;
but few subscriptions being obtained.
To Mr. D. H. MILLER.
Washington City, December 24, 1808.
Dear Sir,
“ I sit down, before leaving this place, to give you
a few particulars of my expedition. I spent nearly a week in Bal-
timore, with tolerable success, having procured sixteen subscribers
there. In Annapolis 1 passed my book through both Houses of the
Legislature : the wise men of Maryland stared and gaped, from
bench to bench ; but having never heard of such a thing as one
hundred and twenty dollars for a book, the ayes for subscribing
were none ; and so it was unanimously determined in the negative.
Nowise discouraged by this sage decision, I pursued my I’oute
through the tobacco fields, sloughs and swamps, of this illitei*ate
corner of the state, to Washington, distant thirty-eight miles ; and
in my way opened fifty-five gates. I Avas forewarned tliat 1 should
meet with many of these embarrassments, and I opened twenty-
two of them with all the patience and philosophy I could muster;
but Avhen I still found them coming thicker and faster, my patience
XCVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
and philosophy both abandoned me, and I saluted every new gate
(which obliged me to plunge into the mud to open it) with perhaps
less Christian resignation than I ought to have done. The negi'oes
there are very numerous, and most wretchedly clad: their whole
covering, in many instances, assumes the appearance of neither
coat, waistcoat, nor breeches, but a motley mass of coarse, dirty
woollen rags, of various colours, gathered up about them. When
I stopped at some of the negro huts to inquire the road, both men
and women huddled up their filthy bundles of rags around them,
with both arms, in order to cover their nakedness, and came out,
veiy civilly, to show me the way.
“ I cannot pretend, within the bounds of a letter, to give you
a complete description of Washington. It consists of a great ex-
tent of confined commons, one-half of which is nearly level, and
little higher than the Potomac ; the other parts, on which the Capi-
tol and Pi*esidenCs house are built, are high and commanding.
The site is much better than I expected to find it; and is certainly
a noble place for a great metropolis. I saw one brick house build-
ing, which is the only improvement, of that kind, going on at pre-
sent. The taverns and boarding houses here are crowded with an
odd assemblage of characters. Fat placemen, expectants, contrac-
tors, petitioners, office-hunters, lumber-dealers, salt-manufacturers,
and numerous other adventurers. Among the rest are deputations
from different Indian nations, along our distant frontiers, who are
come here to receive their last aims from the President, previous
to his retirement.
“ The President received me very kindly. I asked for nobo-
dy to introduce me, but merely sent him in a line that I was there;
when he ordered me to be immediately admitted. He has given
me a letter to a gentleman in Virginia, who is to introduce me to
a person there, who, Mr. Jefferson says, has spent his whole life in
studying the manners of our birds ; and from whom I am to receive
a world of facts and observations. The President intended to send
LIFE OF WILSON.
XCVll
for this person himself; and to take down, from his mouth, what
he knows on the subject ; thinking it a pity, as he says, that the
knowledge he possesses should die with him. But he has entrusted
the business to me ; and I have promised him an account of our
interview.
“ All the subscribers I have gleaned here amount to seventeen.
I shall set oflF, on finishing this letter, to Georgetown and Alexan-
dria. I will write you, or some of my friends, from Richmond.”
To Mr. D. H. MILLER.
Charleston, Fehruary 22, 1809.
Dear Sir,
I have passed through a considerable extent of
country since I wrote you last ; and met with a variety of adven-
tures, some of which may perhaps amuse you. Norfolk turned out
better than I expected. I left that place on one of the coldest
mornings I have experienced since leaving Philadelphia.
^ ^ ^ *
“ I mentioned to you in my last that the streets of Norfolk
were in a most disgraceful state ; but I was informed that some
time before, they had been much worse; that at one time the news-
carrier delivered his papers from a boat ; which he poled along
through the mire; and that a party of sailors, having nothing bet-
ter to do, actually launched a ship’s long-boat into the streets, row-
ing along with four oars through the mud, while one stood at the
bow, heaving the lead, and singing out the depth.
“ I passed through a flat, pine covered country, from Norfolk
to Suflblk, twenty-four miles distant; and lodged, in the way, in
the house of a planter, who informed me that every year, in August
and September, almost all his family are laid up with the bilious
fever; that at one time forty of his people were sick ; and that of
2B
VOL. IX.
XCVlll
LIFE OF WILSON.
thirteen children, only three were living. Two of these, with their
mother, appeared likely not to be long tenants of this world. Thir-
ty miles farther, I came to a small place on the river Nottaway,
called Jerusalem. Here I found the river swelled to such an ex-
traordinary height, that the oldest inhabitant had never seen the
like. After passing along the bridge, I was conveyed, in a boat
termed a flat, a mile and three quarters through the woods, where
the torrent sweeping along in many places rendered this sort of
navigation rather disagreeable. I proceeded on my journey, pass-
ing through solitary pine woods, perpetually interrupted by swamps,
that covered the road with water two and three feet deep, frequent-
ly half a mile at a time, looking like a long river or pond. These
in the afternoon were surmountable; but the weather being exceed-
ingly severe, they were covered every morning with a sheet of ice,
from half an inch to an inch thick, that cut my horse’s legs and
breast. After passing a bridge, I had many times to wade, and
twice to swim my horse, to get to the shore. I attempted to cross
the Roanoke at three different ferries, thirty-five miles apart, and
at last succeeded at a place about fifteen miles below Halifax. A
violent snow storm made the roads still more execrable.
“The productions of these parts of North Carolina are hogs,
turpentine, tar, and apple brandy. A tumbler of toddy is usually
the morning’s beverage of the inhabitants, as soon as they get
out of bed. So universal is the practice, that the first thing you
find them engaged in, after rising, is preparing the brandy toddy.
You can scarcely meet a man whose lips are not parched and chop-
ped or blistered with drinking this poison. Those who do not
drink it, they say, are sure of the ague. I, however, escaped. The
pine woods have a singular appearance, every tree being stripped,
on one or more sides, of the bark, for six or seven feet up. The
turpentine covers these parts in thick masses. I saw the people,
in different parts of the woods, mounted on benches, chopping
down the sides of the trees, leaving a trough or box in the tree for
LIFE OF WILSON.
XCIX
the turpentine to run into. Of hogs they have immense multitudes;
one person will sometimes own five hundred. The leaders have
bells round their necks ; and every drove knows its particular call,
whether it be a conch-shell, or the bawling of a negro, though half
a mile oflF. Their owners will sometimes drive them for four or
five days to a market, without once feeding them.
The taverns are the most desolate and beggarly imaginable ;
bare, bleak and dirty walls ; — one or two old broken chairs, and a
bench, form all the furniture. The white females seldom make
their appearance ; and every thing must be transacted through the
medium of negroes. At supper, you sit down to a meal, the very
sight of which is sufficient to deaden the most eager appetite ; and
you are surrounded by half a dozen dirty, half-naked blacks, male
and female, whom any man of common scent might smell a quar-
ter of a mile off. The house itself is raised upon props, four or
five feet ; and the space below is left open for the hogs, with whose
charming vocal performance the wearied traveller is serenaded the
Avhole night long, till he is forced to curse the hogs, the house, and
every thing about it.
“ I crossed the river Taw at Washington, for Newbern, which
stands upon a sandy plain, between the rivers Trent and Neuse,
both of which abound with alligators. Here I found the shad fish-
ery begun, on the 5th instant ; and wished to have some of you with
me to assist in dissecting some of the finest shad I ever saw.
Thence to Wilmington was my next stage, one hundred miles, with
only one house for the accommodation of travellers on the road ;
two landlords having been broken up with the fever.
The general features of North Carolina, where I crossed it,
are immense, solitary, pine savannas, through which the road winds
among stagnant ponds, swarming with alligators ; dark, sluggish
creeks, of the colour of brandy, over which are thrown high wooden
bridges, without railings, and so crazy and rotten as not only to
alarm one’s horse, but also the rider, and to make it a matter of
c
life of WILSON,
thanksgiving with both when they get fairly ovei'^ without going
through; enormous cypress swamps, which, to a stranger, have a
striking, desolate, and ruinous appearance. Picture to yourself a
forest of prodigious trees, rising, as thick as they can grow, from a
vast flat and impenetrable morass, covered for ten feet from the
ground with reeds. The leafless limbs of the cypresses are clothed
with an extraordinary kind of moss, {Tillandsia usneoides,) from two
to ten feet long, in such quantities, that fifty men might conceal
themselves in one tree. Nothing in this country struck me with
such surprise as the prospect of several thousand acres of such tim-
ber, loaded, as it were, with many million tons of tow, waving in
the wind. I attempted to penetrate several of these swamps, with
my gun, in search of something new ; but, except in some chance
places, I found it altogether impracticable. I coasted along their
borders, however, in many places, and was surprised at the great
profusion of evergreens, of numberless sorts ; and a variety of ber-
ries that I knew nothing of. Hei'e I found multitudes of birds that
never winter with us in Pennsylvania, living in abundance. Though
the people told me that the alligators are so numerous as to destroy
many of their pigs, calves, dogs, &c., yet I have never been ena-
bled to get my eye on one, though I have been several times in
search of them with my gun. In Georgia, they tell me, they are
ten times more numerous ; and I expect some sport among them.
I saw a dog at the river Santee, who swims across when he pleases,
in defiance of these voracious animals ; when he hears them behind
him, he wheels round, and attacks them, often seizing them by the
snout. They generally retreat, and he pursues his route again,
serving every one that attacks him in the same manner.* He be-
longs to the boatman ; and, when left behind, always takes to the
water.
* This is an uncommon instance of intrepidity in the canine race, and is worthy of record.
It is well known that the alligator is fond of dog-flesh ; and the dog appears to be instructed by
instinct to avoid so dangerous an enemy, it being difficult to induce him to approach the haunts
of the alligator, even when encouraged by the example of his master. A fine stout spaniel ac-
LIFE OF WILSON.
Cl
As to the character of the North Carolinians, were I to
judge of it by the specimens which I met with in taverns, I should
pronounce them to be the most ignorant, debased, indolent and
dissipated, portion of the union. But I became acquainted with a
few such noble exceptions, that, for their sakes, I am willing to be-
lieve they are all better than they seemed to be.
“ Wilmington contains about three thousand souls ; and yet
there is not one cultivated field within several miles of it. The
whole country, on this side of the river, is a mass of sand, into
which you sink up to the ankles ; and hardly a blade of grass is to
be seen. All about is pine barrens. * ^ ^ *
From Wilmington I rode through solitary pine savannas,
and cypress swamps, as before ; sometimes thirty miles without
seeing a hut, or human being. On arriving at the Wackamaw, Pe-
dee, and Black river, I made long zigzags among the rich nabobs,
who live on their rice plantations, amidst large villages of negro
huts. One of these gentlemen told me that he had “ somethmg
better than six hundred head of blacks These excursions detained
me greatly. The roads to the plantations were so long, so difficult
to find, and so bad, and the hospitality of the planters was such,
that I could scarcely get away again. I ought to have told you
that the deep sands of South Carolina had so worn out my horse,
that, with all my care, I found he would give up. Chance led me
to the house of a planter, named V., about forty miles north of the
river Wackamaw, where I proposed to bargain with him, and to
give up my young blood horse for another in exchange ; giving him
at least as good a character as he deserved. He asked twenty dol-
lars to boot, and / thirty. We parted, but I could perceive that
companied me to East Florida, Being one day engaged in wading through a pond, in pursuit
of ducks, with my dog swimming behind me, apparently delighted with his employment, he
smelt an alligator : he immediately made to the shore, fled into the forest, and all my endeavours
to prevail with him to return were ineffectual. Ever after, when we approaclied that pond, he
exhibited such evidences of apprehension, that I was fain to retire with him, lest his terror should
again induce him to flee, where he would have, probably, been lost.
2 C
VOL. IX.
Cll
LIFE OF WILSON.
he had taken a liking to my steed ; so I went on. He followed me
to the seabeach, about three miles, under pretence of pointing out
to me the road ; and there, on the sands, amidst the roar of the At-
lantic, we finally bargained 3 and I found myself in possession of a
large, well formed and elegant, sorrel horse, that ran oflF with me,
at a canter, for fifteen miles along the sea shore ; and travelled the
same day forty-two miles, with nothing but a few mouthfuls of rice
straw, which I got from a negro. If you have ever seen the rushes
with which carpenters sometimes smooth their work, you may
form some idea of the common fare of the South Carolina horses.
I found now that I had got a very devil before my chair ; the least
sound of the whip made him spring half a rod at a leap ; no road,
however long or heavy, could tame him. Two or three times he
had nearly broke my neck, and chair to boot ; and at Georgetown
ferry he threw one of the boatmen into the river. But he is an ex-
cellent traveller, and for that one quality I forgave him all his sins,
only keeping a close rein, and a sharp look out,
at ^ ^ ^
“ I should now give you some account of Charleston, with the
streets of which I am as well acquainted as I was with those of
Newyork and Boston ; but I reserve that till we meet. I shall only
say, that the streets cross each other at right angles — are paved on
the sides — have a low bed of sand in the middle ; and frequently
are in a state fit to compare to those of Norfolk, The town, how-
ever, is neat — has a gay appearance — is full of shops ; and has a
market place which far surpasses those of Philadelphia for cleanli-
ness, and is an honour to the city. Many of the buildings have
two, three, and four ranges of piazzas, one above anothei*, with a
great deal of gingerbread work about them. The streets are
crowded with negroes ; and their quarrels often afford amusement
to the passengers. In a street called Broad Street, I every day see
a crowd of wretchedly clad blacks, huddled in a corner for sale :
people handling them as they do black cattle. Here are female
LIFE OF WILSON.
ciii
chimney sweeps ; stalls with roasted sweet potatoes for sale ; and
on the wharves clubs of blacks, male and female, sitting round fires,
amid heaps of oyster-shells, cooking their victuals — these seem the
happiest mortals on earth. The finest groups for a comic painter
might every day be found here that any country can produce.
“ The ladies of Charleston ai'e dressed with taste ; but their
pale and languid countenances by no means correspond with their
figures. ***
‘^To-morrow afternoon I shall set off for Savannah. I have
collected one hundred and twenty-five subscribers since leaving
home.”
Savannah^ March 5, 1809,
Dear Sir,
“ I have now reached the ne plus ultra of my pere-
grinations, and shall return home by the first opportunity. Whether
this shall be by land or water depends on circumstances ; if the
former, I shall go by Augusta, where I am told twelve or fifteen
subscribers may be procured. These, however, would be insuflS-
cient to tempt me that way, for I doubt whether my funds would
be sufficient to carry me through.
“ The innkeepers in the southern states are like the vultures
that hover about their cities ; and treat their guests as the others
do their carrion : are as glad to see them, and pick them as bare.
The last letter I wrote you was on my arrival in Charleston. I
found greater difficulties to surmount there than I had thought of.
I solicited several people for a list of names, but that abject and
disgraceful listlessness and want of energy which have unnerved
the whites of all descriptions in these states, put me ofl' from time
to time, till at last I was obliged to walk the streets, and pick out
those houses which, from their appearance, indicated wealth and
taste in the occupants, and introduce myself. Neither M., Dr. R.,
CIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
nor any other that I applied to, gave me the least assistance, though
they promised, and knew I was a stranger. I was going on in this
way, when the keeper of the library, a Scotsman, a good man,
whose name had been mentioned to me, made me out a list from
the directory; and among these I spent ten days. The extreme
servility and superabundance of negroes have ruined the energy
and activity of the white population. M. appears to be fast sink-
ing into the same insipidity of character; Avith a pretty good sprink-
ling of rapacity. In Charleston, however, I met with some excel-
lent exceptions, among the first ranks of society; and the Avork
excited universal admiration. Dr. D. introduced it very handsomely
into the Courier. On hearing of general Wilkinson’s arrival, I
Avaited on him. He received me Avith kindness — said he valued
the book highly — and paid me the twelve dollars ; on which I took
occasion to prognosticate my final success on receiving its first
fruits from him.
“I will not tire you by a recital of the difficulties Avhich I met
Avith betAveen Charleston and Savannah, by bad roads, and the ex-
traordinary flood of the river Savannah, where I had nearly lost
my horse, he having, by his restiveness, thrown himself overboard;
and, had I not, at great personal risk, rescued him, he might have
floated doAvn to Savannah before me,
“I arrived here on Tuesday last, and advertised in the Re-
publican, the editors of Avhich interested themselves considerably
for me, speaking of my book in their Thursday’s paper Avith much
approbation. The expense of advertising in the southern states is
great ; but I found it really necessary. I have noAV seen every per-
son in this place and neighbourhood, of use to be seen. Hei'e I
close the list of my subscriptions, obtained at a price worth more
than five times their amount. But, in spite of a host of difficulties,
I have gained my point ; and should the work be continued in the
style it has been begun, I have no doubt but we may increase the
copies to four hundred. J have endeavoured to find persons of
LIFE OF WILSON.
cv
respectability in each town, who will receive and deliver the vo-
lumes, without recompense, any further than allowing them to make
the first selection. By this means the rapacity of some booksellers
will be avoided.
“ The weather has been extremely warm these ten days, the
thermometer stood in the shade on Friday and Saturday last, at 78°
and 79°. I have seen no frost since the 5th of February, The
few gardens here are as green and luxuriant as ours are in sum-
mer— full of flow^ering shrubbery, and surrounded with groves of
orange trees, fifteen and twenty feet high, loaded with fruit. The
streets are deep beds of heavy sand, without the accommodation
of a foot pavement. I most sincerely hope that I may be able to
return home by water ; if not, I shall trouble you with one letter
more.’^
To Mr. WITT JAM BARTRAM.
Savannah, March 5, 1809.
“ Three months, my dear friend, are passed since I parted
from you in Kingsess. I have been travelling ever since; and one
half of my journey is yet to be performed — but that half is home-
wards, and through old Neptune’s dominions, where I trust I shall
not be long detained. This has been the most arduous, expensive,
and fatiguing, expedition I ever undertook. I have, however, gain-
ed my point in procuring two hundred and fifty subscribers, in all,
for my Ornithology ; and a great mass of information respecting
the birds that winter in the southern states, and some that never
visit the middle states ; and this information I have derived person-
ally, and can therefore the more certainly depend upon it. I have,
also, found several new birds, of which I can find no account in
Linneus. All these things we will talk over when w^e meet.
Hi- ^ ^
2 D
VOL. IX,
CVl
LIFE OF WILSON,
“ I visited a great number of the rich rice planters on the rivers
Santee and Pedee, and was much struck with the miserable swarms
of negroes around them. In these rice plantations there are great
numbers of birds never supposed to winter so far north, and their
tameness surprised me. There are also many here that never visit
Pennsylvania. Round Georgetown I also visited several rich plan-
ters, all of whom entertained me hospitably. I spent ten days in
Charleston, still, in every place where I stopped a day or two, ma-
king excursions with my gun.
“ On the commons, near Charleston, I presided at a singular
feast. The company consisted of two hundred and thirty-seven
Carrion Crows, {Viiltui' atratus^ five or six dogs, and myself, though
I only kept order, and left the eating part entirely to the others. I
sat so near to the dead horse, that my feet touched his, and yet at
one time I counted thirty-eight vultures on and within him, so that
hardly an inch of his flesh could be seen for them. Linneus and
others have confounded this Vultur with the Turkey Buzzard, but
they are two very distinct species.
“As far north as Wilmington, in North Carolina, I met with
the Ivory-billed Woodpecker. I killed two, and winged a male,
who alarmed the whole town of Wilmington, screaming exactly
like a young child crying violently, so that every body supposed I
had a baby under the apron of my chair, till I took out the bird to
prevent the people from stopping me. This bird I confined in the
loom I was to sleep in, and in less than half an hour he made his
way through the plaster, the lath, and partly through the weather
boai'ds ; and would have escaped, if I had not accidentally come
in. The common people confound the P. principalis and P. pilea-
ills together.
^
“ I am utterly at a loss in my wood rambles here, for there
are so many trees, shrubs, plants and insects, that I know nothing
of. There are immense quantities of elegant butterflies, and other
LIFE OF WILSON.
evil
singular insects. I met with a grasshopper so big that I took it
for a bird ; it settles upon trees and bushes. I have kept a re-
cord of all the birds which I have seen or shot since I left home,
“ This journey will be of much use to me, as I have formed
acquaintance in almost every place, who are able to transmit me
information. Great numbers of our summer birds are already here ;
and many are usually here all winter.
“ There is a Mr. Abbot here, who has resided in Georgia
thirty-three years, drawing insects and birds. I have been on se-
veral excursions with him. He is a very good observer, and paints
well. He has published, in London, one large folio volume of the
Lepidopterous Insects of Georgia. It is a very splendid work.
There is only one vessel here bound to Newyork; she sails some
time next week, and I shall take my passage in her. I caught a
fever here by getting wet ; I hope the sea air, and sea-sickness, will
carry it ofiF.’^
Savannah^ March 8, 1809.
Dear Sir,
“ Having now visited all the towns w ithin one liiin-
dred miles of the Atlantic from Maine to Georgia, and done as
much for this bantling book of mine as ever author did for any pro-
geny of his brain, I now turn my wishful eye towards home. There
is a charm, a melody, in this little word home^ which only those
know who have forsaken it to wander among strangers, exposed to
dangers, fatigues, insults and impositions, of a thousand nameless
kinds. Perhaps I feel the force of this idea rather more at present
than usual, being indisposed with a slight fever these three days,
which a dose of sea-sickness will, I hope, rid me of. The w^eather
since my arrival in this place has been extremely warm for the sea-
son. The wind generally south-west, and the thermometer ranging
between 75 and 82. To me it feels more intolerable than our sum-
cvm
LIFE OF WILSON.
mer heat in Philadelphia. The streets of Savannah are also mere
beds of burning sand, without even a foot pavement ; and until one
learns to traverse them with both eyes and mouth shut, both are
plentifully filled with showers and whirlwinds of sand. I was lon-
ger detained in Charleston than I expected, partly on account of
the races, which occupied the minds of many I wished to visit, to
the exclusion of every thing else. At nine they were in bed ; at
ten breakfasting — dressing at eleven — gone out at noon, and not
visible again until ten next morning. I met, however, with some
excellent exceptions among the first ranks of society, and my work
excited universal admiration. Dr. D. introduced it very handsome-
ly into the Courier.
“ The indolence, want of energy, and dissipation of the wealthy
part of the community in that place, are truly contemptible. The
superabundance of negroes in the southern states has destroyed the
activity of the whites. The carpenter, bricklayer, and even the
blacksmith, stand with their hands in their pockets, overlooking
their negroes. The planter orders his servant to tell the overseer
to see my horse fed and taken care of ; the overseer sends another
negro to tell the driver to send one of his hands to do it. Before
half of this routine is gone through, I have myself unharnessed,
rubbed down, and fed my horse. Every thing must be done through
the agency of these slovenly blacks, and a gentleman here can
hardly perform the services without half a dozen
negroes to assist him. These, however, are not one tenth of the
curses slavery has brought on the southern states. Nothing has
surprised me more than the cold melancholy reserve of the females
of the best families in South Carolina and Georgia. Old and young,
single and married, all have that dull frigid insipidity and reserve
which is attributed to solitary old maids. Even in their own houses
they scarce utter any thing to a stranger but yes or no, and one is
perpetually puzzled to know whether it proceeds from awkward-
ness or dislike. Those who have been at some of their balls say
LIFE OF WILSON.
cix
that the ladies hardly ever speak or smile, bat dance with as much
gravity as if they were performing some ceremony of devotion. On
the contrary the negro wenches are all sprightliness and gaiety ;
and if report be not a defamer — {Iiere there is a hiatus in the manu-
script) which render the men callous to all the finer sensations of
love, and female excellence.
“ I will not detain you by a recital of my journey from Charles-
ton to Savannah. In crossing the Savannah riv^er, at a place call-
ed the Two Sisters’ Ferry, my horse threw himself into the torrent,
and had I not, at the risk of my own life, rescued him, would have
been drowned.”
Of the first volume of the Ornithology only two hundred co-
0
pies had been printed. But it was now thought expedient to strike
oflf a new edition of three hundred more ; as the increasing appro-
bation of the public warranted the expectation of corresponding
support.
Fo Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
Philadelphia^ Jlugust 4, 1809.
‘■‘The second volume of “American Ornithology” being now
nearly ready to go to press, and the plates in considerable forward-
ness, you will permit me to trespass on your time, for a few mo-
ments, by inquiring if you have any thing interesting to add to the
history of the following birds, the figures of which will be found in
this volume.
^ ^
“ I have myself already said every thing of the foregoing that
my own observations suggested, or that I have been enabled to col-
lect from those on whom I could rely. As it has fallen to my lot
to be the biographer of the feathered tribes of the United States, I
am solicitous to do full justice to every species ; and I would not
2 E
VOL. IX.
cx
LIFE OF WILSON.
conceal one good quality that any one of them possesses. I have
paid particular attention to the Mocking-bird, Humming-bird, King-
bird and Cat-bird ; all the principal traits in their character I have
delineated at full. If you have any thing to add on either of them,
I wish you would communicate it in the form of a letter, addressed
particularly to me. Your favourable opinion of my work (if such
you have) would, if publicly known, be of infinite service to me,
and procure me many friends.^
‘‘I assure you, my dear friend, tliat this undertaking has in-
volved me in many difficulties and expenses which I never dreamt
of and I have never yet received one cent from it. I am, there-
fore, a volunteer in the cause of Natural History, impelled by no-
bler views than those of money. The second volume will be ready
for delivery on the first of January next. I have received commu-
nications from many different parts of the United States ; with
some drawings, and offers of more. But these are rarely executed
with such precision as is necessary for a work of this kind.
^ This instance of Wilson’s diffidence of his own talents and acquirements is too re-
markable to be passed over without a note. He seemed to fear lest the intrinsic merit of his
work should not be sufficient, of itself, to get it into notice ; and therefore he solicited the fa-
vourable opinion of one to whose judgement in these matters, he felt assured, the public paid a
deference. Contrasted with this modest deportment, how contemptible is the vanity and self
conceit of those writers, who, whether they compose a superficial essay for the transactions of a
learned society, or compile a bald and meager pamphlet, present themselves before the public
^vith an air of importance, which should seem to demand that countenance and applause, as a
matter of right, wliich true merit humbly requests as a favour.
t The great expense of the publication prevented the author from giving all his plates that
finish which his taste and judgement would have approved j but that in some instances extraordi-
nary pains were bestowed upon them, a cursory glance will render evident. I have Mr. Law-
son’s authority for asserting that so anxious was he to encourage his friend, that frequently after
computing the time spent upon perfecting his work, he found his reward did not amount to
more than ffty cents per day.
From a note to this gentleman I make the following extract, relating to the Bald Eagle :
“ 1 hope you go on courageously with the Eagle ; let no expense deter you from giving it
the freest and most masterly touches of your graver. I think we shall be able to offer it as a
competitor with the best that this country or Europe can produce.”
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXI
“Let me know if you have ever seen the nest of Catesby’s
Coxvpen-bh'd, I have every reason to believe that this bird never
builds itself a nest, but, like the Cuckoo of Europe, drops its eggs
into the nests of other birds ; and leaves the result to their mercv
and management. I have found no less than six nests this season
with each a young Cow-bird contained in it. One of these which
I had found in the nest of the Maryland Yellow-throat, and which
occupied the whole nest, I brought home, and put it into the cage
of a Crested Red-bird, who became its foster father, and fed, and
reared it, with great affection. It begins to chant a little.
“ I have just heard from our old friend M * * * * '^ ^. He has
not yet published the first number of his work ; and Bonaparte has
been so busy with cutting throats, and building bridges, in the fo-
rests of Austria, that the Inspector of the Forests of France has not
yet received his appointment.”
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM.
October 11, 1809.
“ Thanks for your bird, so neatly stuffed that I was just about
to skin it. It is the Rallus Virginiamis of Turton, and agrees ex-
actly with his description. The one in company was probably the
female. Turton mentions four species as inhabitants of the United
States. I myself have seen six. Mr. Abbot of Savannah showed
me two new species. I found the Sora, as the Virginians call it,
in the rice flats near Savannah, in March. General Wilkinson
told me that the Sora was in multitudes at Detroit. Query — don’t
you think they breed in the north, like the Rice-birds ? Are not
the European naturalists mistaken in saying that the Reed-birds or
Rice-birds pass from the island of Cuba, in September, to Carolina ?
All the Spaniards with whom I have conversed say that these birds
are seen in Cuba early in the spring only, and again in October.
CXII
LIFE OF WILSON.
And the people of the District of Maine, of all the Newengland
states, and those who have lived on the river Illinois, declare that
these birds breed there in vast numbers.
I have many limes been told that our small Snow-bird {Frin-
gilla Hudsonia) breeds in the Great Swamp, which I can hardly be-
lieve. When I was in Williamsburg, Virginia, Bishop Madison
told me of a mountain, in the interior of that state, where they bred
in multitudes. I have lately had the most positive assurances from
a gentleman who lived on the ranges of the Alleghany, about two
hundred and fifty miles distant, that he saw them there four months
ago ; and that they built their nests almost every where among the
long grass. He said he took particular notice of them, as he had
heard it said down here, that they changed to Chipping Sparrows
in summer. What think you of these mattei’s ?
To Mr. WILLIAM BARTRAM.
Philadelphia, Nov, 11, 1809.
“ Dear Sir,
“ Since I parted from you yesterday evening, I have
ruminated a great deal on my proposed journey ; I have considered
the advantages and disadvantages of the three modes of proceeding:
on horseback — in the stage-coach, and on foot. Taking every
thing into view, I have at length determined to adopt the last, as
being the cheapest, the best adapted for examining the country we
pass through ; the most favourable to health ; and, in short, except
for its fatigues, the best mode for a scientific traveller or naturalist,
in every point of view. I have also thought that by this determi-
nation I will be so happy as to secure your company, for which I
would willingly sustain as much hardship, and as many depriva-
tions, as T am able to bear.
LIFE OF WILSON. cxiii
If this determination should meet your approbation, and if
you are willing to encounter the hardships of such a pedestrian
journey, let me know as soon as is convenient. I think one dollar
a day, each, will be fully sufficient for our expenses, by a strict re-
gard, at all limes, to economy.’^
The second volume of the Ornithology was published in Janu-
ary, 1810 ; and Wilson set out for Pittsburg, the latter part of the
same month, in his route to Neworleans. I trust that no apology
is necessary for introducing the following letters, addressed to Mr.
Lawson, into these memoirs, notwithstanding three of them are
well known to the public, having originally appeared in the Port
Folio, ^
To Mr. ALEXANDER LAWSON.
Pittsburg, February 2‘2d, 1810.
“ Dear Sir,
“From this stage of my Ornithological pil-
grimage, I sit down, with pleasure, to give you some account of my
adventures since we parted. On arriving at Lancaster, I waited
on the governor, secretary of state, and such other great folks as
were likely to be useful to me. The governor received me with
civility, passed some good natured compliments on the volumes,
and readily added his name to my list. He seems an active man,
of plain good sense, and little ceremony. By Mr. L. I was intro-
duced to many members of both houses, bull found them, in gene-
ral, such a pitiful, squabbling, political mob ; so split up, and jus-
tling about the mere formalities of legislation, without knowing any
thing of its realities, that I abandoned them in disgust. I must.
New Series, vols. III, 499. IV, 310. VII, 34.
2F
VOL. IX.
CXIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
however, except from this censure a few intelligent individuals,
friends to science, and possessed of taste, who treated me with great
kindness. On Friday evening I set out for Columbia, where I spent
one day in vain. I crossed the Susquehannah on Sunday forenoon,
Avilh some difficulty, having to cut our way through the ice for se-
veral hundred yards ; and passing on to York, paid my respects
to all the literati of that place without success. Five miles north
of this town lives a very extraordinary character, between eighty
and ninety years of age, who has lived by trapping birds and quad-
rupeds these thirty years. Dr. F. carried me out in a sleigh to see
him, and presented me with a tolerably good full length figure of
him ; he has also promised to transmit to me such a collection of
facts relative to this singular original, as will enable me to draw
up an interesting narrative of him for the Port Folio. I carried
him half a pound of snuft', of which he is insatiably fond, taking it
by handfuls. I was much diverted Avith the astonishment he ex-
pressed on looking at the plates of my Avork — he could tell me
anecdotes of the greater part of the subjects of the first volume,
and some of the second. One of his traps, which he says he in-
vented himself, is remarkable for ingenuity, and extremely simple.
Having a letter from Dr. Muhlenberg to a clergyman in Hanover,
I passed on through a Avell cultivated country, chiefly inhabited by
Germans, to that place, Avhere a certain Judge took upon himself
to say, that such a book as mine ought not to be encouraged^ as it
was not ivithm the reach of the conimonality ; and therefore inconsistent
with our republican institutions! By the same mode of reasoning,
Avhich I did not dispute, I undertook to prove him a greater culprit
than myself, in erecting a large, elegant, three-story brick house,
so much beyond the reach of the coimnotiality, as he called them,
and consequently grossly contrary to our republican institutions.
I harangued this Solomon of the Bench more seriously afterwards,
pointing out to him the great influence of science on a young rising
nation like ours, and particularly the science of Natural History,
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxv
till he began to show such symptoms of intellect, as to seem ashamed
of what he had said.
“ From Hanover I passed through a thinly inhabited country;
and crossing the North Mountain, at a pass called Newman’s Gap,
arrived at Chambersburg, whence I next morning returned to Car-
lisle, to visit the reverend doctors of the college. * ^ ^ ^
“ The towns of Chamljersburg and Shippensburg produced
me nothing. On Sunday, the lllh, I left the former of these places
in the stage coach ; and in fifteen miles began to ascend the Alpine
regions of the Alleghany mountains, where above, around, and be-
low us, nothing appeared but prodigious declivities, covered with
woods ; and, the weather being fine, such a profound silence pre-
vailed among these aerial solitudes, as impressed the soul with awe,
and a kind of fearful sublimity. Something of this arose from my
being alone, having left the coach several miles below. These
high ranges continued for more than one hundred miles to Greens-
burg, thirty-two miles from Pittsburg ; thence the country is no-
thing but an assemblage of steep hills, and deep vallies, descending
rapidly till you reach within seven miles of this place, where I ar-
rived on the 15th instant. We were within two miles of Pittsburg,
when suddenly the road descends a long and very steep hill, where
the Alleghany river is seen at hand, on the right, stretching along
a rich bottom, and bounded by a high ridge ot hills on the west.
After following this road, parallel with the river, and about a quar-
ter of a mile from it, through a rich low valley, a cloud ot black
smoke, at its extremity, announced the town of Pittsburg. On ai-
riving at the town, which stands on a low flat, and looks like a col-
lection of Blacksmith’s shops, Glasshouses, Breweries, Forges and
Furnaces, the Monongahela opened to the view, on the left, running
along the bottom of a range of hills so high that the sun, at this sea-
son, sets to the town of Pittsburg at a little past four : this range
continues along the Ohio as far as the view reaches. The ice had
just begun to give way in the Monongahela, and came down in vast
CXVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
bodies for the three following days. It has now begun in the Al-
leghany, and, at the moment I write, the river presents a white
mass of rushing ice.
“ The country beyond the Ohio, to the west, appears a moun-
tainous and hilly region. The Monongahela is lined with arks,
usually called Kentucky-boats, waiting for the rising of the river,
and the absence of the ice, to descend. A perspective view of the
town of Pittsburg at this season, with the numerous arks and co-
vered keel-boats preparing to descend the Ohio; its hills, its great
rivers — the pillars of smoke rising from its furnaces and glass-
works, would make a noble picture. I began a very diligent search
in this place, the day after my arrival, for subscribers, and conti-
nued it for four days. I succeeded beyond expectation, having got
nineteen names of the most wealthy and respectable part of the in-
habitants. The industry of Pittsburg is remarkable ; every body
you see is busy ; and as a proof of the prosperity of the place, an
eminent lawyer told me that there has not been one suit instituted
against a merchant of the town these three years.
^ ^ ^
“ Gentlemen here assure me that the road to Chilicothe is im-
passable on foot by i‘eason of the freshes. I have therefore resolved
to navigate myself a small skiff, which I have bought, and named
the Ornithologist, down to Cincinnati, a distance of five hundred
and twenty-eight miles ; intending to visit five or six towns that lie
in my way. From Cincinnati I will cross over to the opposite
shore, and, abandoning my boat, make my way to Lexington, where
I expect to be ere your letter can reach that place. Were I to go
by Chilicothe I should miss five towns, as large as it. Some say
that I ought not to attempt going down by myself — others think I
may. I am determined to make the experiment, the expense of
hiring a rower being considerable. As soon as the ice clears out
of the Alleghany, and the weather will permit, I shall shove oft',
having every thing in readiness. I have ransacked the woods and
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxvu
fields here without finding a single bird new to me, or indeed any
thing but a few Snow-birds and Sparrows. I expect to have some-
thing interesting to communicate in my next.
^ ^ ^ Mi
My friends will please accept through you my best wishes
and kindest respects ; and I regret that while the grand spectacle
of mountains, i*egions of expanded forests, glittering towns, and
noble rivers, are passing in rapid succession before my delighted
view, they are not beside me to enjoy the varying scenery ; but as
far as my pen will enable me I will freely share it with them, and
remember them affectionately until I forget mijself.
‘^February 23d. My baggage is onboard — I have just to des-
patch this and set off. The weather is fine, and I have no doubt
of piloting my skiff in safety to Cincinnati. Farewell! God bless
you !”
To Mr. ALEXANDER LAWSON.
Lexington^ Jlpril 4, 1810.
My Dear Sir,
Having now reached the second stage of my
bird-catching expedition, I willingly sit down to give you some ac-
count of my adventures and remarks since leaving Pittsburg ; by
the aid of a good map, and your usual stock of patience, jou will
be able to listen to my story, and trace all my wanderings. Though
generally dissuaded from venturing by myself on so long a voyage
down the Ohio, in an open skiff, I considered this mode, with all
its inconveniences, as the most favourable to my researches, and
the most suitable to my funds, and I determined accordingly. Two
days before my departure the Alleghany river was one wide tor-
rent of broken ice, and I calculated on experiencing considerable
difficulties on this score. My stock of provisions consisted of some
2G
VOL. IX.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxviii
biscuit and cheese, and a bottle of cordial presented me by a gen-
tleman of Pittsburg; my gun, trunk and great coat, occupied one
end of the boat; I had a small tin occasionally to bale her, and to
take my beverage from the Ohio with ; and bidding adieu to the
smoky confines of Pitt, I launched into the stream, and soon wind-
ed away among the hills that every where enclose this noble river.
The weather was warm and serene, and the river like a mirror,
except where floating masses of ice spotted its surface, and which
required some care to steer clear of ; but these to my surprise, in
less than a day’s sailing, totally disappeared. Far from being con-
cerned at my new situation, I felt my heart expand with joy at the
novelties which surrounded me ; I listened with pleasure to the
whistling of the Red-bird on the banks as I passed, and contem-
plated the forest scenery as it receded, with increasing delight.
The smoke of the numerous sugar camps, rising lazily among the
mountains, gave great effect to the varying landscape ; and the
grotesque log cabins, that here and there opened from the woods,
were diminished into mere dog-houses by the sublimity of the im-
pending mountains. If you suppose to yourself two parallel ranges
of forest-covered hills, whose irregular summits are seldom more
than three or four miles apart, winding through an immense extent
of country, and enclosing a ifiver half a mile wide, which alternate-
ly washes the steep declivity on one side, and leaves a rich flat
forest-clad bottom on the othei', of a mile or so in breadth, you
will have a pretty correct idea of the appearance of the Ohio.
The banks of these rich flats are from twenty to sixty and eighty
feet high, and even these last were within a few feet of being over-
flowed in December, 1808.
I now stripped, with alacrity, to my new avocation. The
current went about two and a half miles an hour, and I added about
three and a half miles more to the boat’s way with my oai s. In
the course of the day I passed a number of arks, or, as they are
usually called, Kentucky boats, loaded with what it must be ac-
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXIX
knowledged are the most valuable commodities of a country ; viz.
men, women and children, horses and ploughs, flour, millstones, &c.
Several of these floating caravans were loaded with store goods for
the supply of the settlements through which they passed, having a
counter erected, shawls, muslins, &c. displayed, and every thing
ready for transacting business. On approaching a settlement they
blow a horn or tin trumpet, which announces to the inhabitants
their arrival. I boarded many of these arks, and felt much inter-
ested at the sight of so many human beings migrating like birds
of passage to the luxuriant I'egions of the south and west. The
arks are built in the form of a parallelogram, being from twelve
to fourteen feet wide, and from forty to seventy feet long, covered
above, rowed only occasionally by two oars before, and steered by
a long and powerful one fixed above, as in the annexed sketch.
Barge for passing up stream.
The barges are taken up along shore by setting poles at the
rate of twenty miles or so a day ; the arks cost about one bundled
and fifty cents per foot, according to their length, and when they
reach their places of destination, seldom bring more than one-sixth
their original cost. These arks descend from all parts of the Ohio
and its tributary streams, the Alleghany, Monongahela, Muskin-
gum, Sciota, Miami, Kentucky, Wabash, &c. in the months of
March, April, and May particularly, with goods, produce and emi-
grants, the two former for markets along the river, oi at Newoi-
leans, the latter for various parts of Kentucky, Ohio, and the Indi-
ana Territory. I now return to my own expedition. I rowed
twenty odd miles the first spell, and found I should be able to stand
it perfectly well. About an hour after night I put up at a misera-
ble cabin, fifty-two miles from Pittsburg, where I slept on what I
cxx
LIFE OF WILSON.
supposed to be corn-stalks, or something worse ; so preferring the
smooth bosom of the Ohio to this brush heap, I got up long before
day, and, being under no apprehension of losing my way, I again
pushed out into the stream. The landscape on each side lay in
one mass of shade, but the grandeur of the projecting headlands
and vanishing points, or lines, were charmingly reflected in the
smooth glassy surface below. I could only discover when I was
passing a clearing by the crowing of cocks ; and now and then in
more solitary places the big-horned owl made a most hideous hol-
lowing that echoed among the mountains. In this lonesome manner,
with full leisure for observation and reflection, exposed to hardships
all day, and hard births all night, to storms of rain, hail and snow,
for it froze severely almost every night, I persevered, from the 24th
of February to Sunday evening March 17th, when I moored my
skiff safely in Bear Grass Creek, at the Rapids of the Ohio, after a
voyage of seven hundred and twenty miles. My hands suffered the
most ; and it will be some weeks yet before they recover their for-
mer feeling and flexibility. It would be the task of a month to
detail all the particulars of my numerous excursions, in every di-
rection from the river. In Steubenville, Charlestown and Wheel-
ino-, I found some friends. At Marietta I visited the celebrated re-
mains of Indian fortifications, as they are improperly called, which
cover a large space of ground on the banks of the Muskingum.
Seventy miles above this, at a place called Big Grave Creek, I exa-
mined some extraordinary remains of the same kind there. The
Big Grave is three hundred paces round at the base, seventy feet
perpendicular, and the top, which is about fifty feet over, has sunk
in, forming a regular concavity, three or four feet deep. This tu-
mulus is in the form of a cone, and the whole, as well as its imme-
diate neighbourhood, is covered with a venerable growth of forest
four or five hundred years old, which gives it a most singular ap-
pearance. In clambering around its steep sides I found a place
where a large white oak had been lately blown down, and had torn
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXXl
up the earth to the depth of five or six feet. In this place I com-
menced digging, and continued to labour for about an hour, exa-
mining every handful of earth with great care, but except some
shreds of earthen ware made of a coarse kind of gritty clay, and
considerable pieces of charcoal, I found nothing else ; but a person
of the neighbourhood presented me with some beads fashioned out
of a kind of white stone, which were found in digging on the oppo-
site side of this gigantic mound, where I found the hole still re-
maining. The whole of an extensive plain a short distance from
this is marked out with squares, oblongs and circles, one of which
comprehends several acres. The embankments by which they are
distinguished are still two or three feet above the common level of
the field. The Big Grave is the property of a Mr. Tomlinson, or
Tumblestone, who lives near, and who would not expend three
cents to see the whole sifted before his face. I endeavoured to
work on his avarice by representing the probability that it might
contain valuable matters, and suggested to him a mode by which
a passage might be cut into it level with the bottom, and by exca-
vation and arching a most noble cellar might be formed for keep-
ing his turnips and potatoes. “All the turnips and potatoes I shall
raise this dozen years,” said he, “ would not pay the expense.”
This man is no antiquary, or theoretical farmer, nor much of a
practical one either I fear ; he has about two thousand acres of the
best land, and just makes out to live. Near the head of what is
called the Long Reach, I called on a certain Michael Cressap, son
to the noted colonel Cressap, mentioned in Jefferson’s Notes on
Virginia. From him I received the head of a Paddle fish, the
largest ever seen in the Ohio, which I am keeping for Mr. Peale,
with various other curiosities. I took the liberty of asking whether
Logan’s accusation of his father having killed all his family, had
any truth in it ; but he replied that it had not. Logan, he said,
had been misinformed; he detailed to me all the particulars, which
are too long for repetition, and concluded by informing me that
2 H
VOL. IX,
CXXll
LIFE OF WILSON.
his father died early in the revolutionary war of the camp fever,
near Newyork.
Marietta stands on a swampy plain, which has evidently once
been the ancient bed of the Muskingum, and is still occasionally
inundated to the depth of five or six feet. A Mr. Putnam, son to
the old general of Bunker’s Hill memory, and Mr. Gill man and
Mr. Fearing, are making great exertions here, in introducing and
multiplying the race of merinos. The two latter gentlemen are
about establishing works by steam for carding and spinning wool,
and intend to carry on the manufacture of broadcloth extensively.
Mr. Gillman is a gentleman of taste and wealth, and has no doubts
of succeeding. Something is necessary to give animation to this
place, for since the building of ships has been abandoned here, the
place seems on the decline.
The current of the Muskingum is very rapid, and the ferry
boat is navigated across in the following manner. A strong cable
is extended from bank to bank, forty or fifty feet above the surface
of the river, and fastened tight at each end. On this cable are two
loose running blocks ; one rope from the bow of the boat is fasten-
ed to the first of these blocks, and another from the after part of
the boat to the second block, and by lengthening this last a diago-
nal direction is given to the boat’s head, a little up stream, and the
current striking forcibly and obliquely on her aft, she is hurried
forward with amazing velocity without any manual labour what-
ever. I passed Blannerhasset’s island after night, but the people
were burning brush, and by the light I had a distinct view of the
mansion house, which is but a plain frame of no great dimensions.
It is now the property of a Mr. Miller from Lexington, who intends
laying it chiefly in hemp. It is nearly three miles long, and con-
tains about three hundred acres, half of which is in cultivation, but
like all the rest of the numerous islands of the Ohio, is subject to
inundations. At Galliopolis, which stands upon a high plain, and
contains forty or fifty scattered houses, I found the fields well fenced
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxxiii
and well cultivated, peach and apple orchards numerous, and a
considerable appearance of industry. One half of the original
French settlers have removed to a tract of land opposite to the
mouth of Sandy river. This town has one shop and two taverns ;
the mountains press in to within a short distance of the town. I
found here another Indian mound planted with peach trees. On
Monday, March 5th, about ten miles below the mouth of the great
Sciota, where I saw the first flock of paroquets, I encountered a vio-
lent storm of wind and rain, which changed to hail and snow,
blowing down trees and limbs in all directions, so that for imme-
diate preservation I was obliged to steer out into the river, which'
rolled and foamed like a sea, and filled my boat nearly half full
of water, and it was with the greatest difl&culty I could make the
least headway. It continued to snow violently until dusk, when I
at length made good my landing at a place on the Kentucky shore,
w'here I had perceived a cabin ; and here I spent the evening in
learning the art and mystery of bear-treeing, wolf-trapping and
wild-cat hunting, from an old professor. But notwithstanding the
skill of this great master, the country here is swarming with wolves
and wild-cats, black and brown ; according to this hunter’s own
confession he had lost sixty pigs since Christmas last, and all night
long the distant howling of the wolves kept the dogs in a perpetual
uproar of barking. This man was one of those people called
squatters, who neither pay rent nor own land, but keep roving on
the frontiers, advancing as the tide of civilized population ap-
proaches. They are the immediate successors of the savages, and
far below them in good sense and good manners, as well as com-
fortable accommodations. An engraved representation of one of
their cabins would form a striking embellishment to the pages of
The Port Folio, as a specimen of the order of Jimerican Jlrchi-
tectiire.
Nothing adds more to the savage grandeur and picturesque
eflPect of the scenery along the Ohio than these miserable huts of
CXXIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
human beings, lurking at the bottom of a gigantic growth of tim-
ber that I have not seen equalled in any other part of the United
States. And it is truly amusing to observe how dear and how fa-
miliar habit has rendered those privations which must have been
first the offspring of necessity. Yet none pride themselves more
on their possessions. The inhabitants of these forlorn sheds will
talk to you with pride of the richness of their soil, of the excellence
and abundance of their country, of the healthiness of their climate,
and the purity of their waters, while the only bread you find among
them is of Indian corn coarsely ground in a horse-mill, with half of
'the grains unbroken , even their cattle are destitute of stables and
hay, and look like moving skeletons ; their own houses worse than
pig-sties ; their clothes an assemblage of rags, their faces yellow,
and lank with disease, and their persons covered with filth, and
frequently garnished with the humours of the Scotch fiddle, from
Avhich dreadful disease by the mercy of God I have been most mi-
raculously preserved. All this is the effect of laziness. The corn
is thrown into the ground in the Spring, and the pigs turned into
the woods, where they multiply like rabbits. The labour of the
squatter is now over till Autumn, and he spends the Winter in eat-
ing pork, cabbage and hoe-cakes. What a contrast to the neat
farm, and snug cleanly habitation, of the industrious settler that
opens his green fields, his stately barns, gardens and orchards, to
the gladdened eye of the delighted stranger !
At a place called Salt Lick I went ashore to see the salt works,
and to learn whether the people had found any further remains of
an animal of the ox kind, one of whose horns, of a prodigious size,
was discovered here some years ago, and is in the possession of
Mr. Peale. They make here about one thousand bushels weekly,
which sells at one dollar and seventy-five cents per bushel. The
wells are from thirty to fifty feet deep, but nothing curious has
lately been dug up. I landed at Maysville, or Limestone, where a
considerable deal of business is done in importation for the interior
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxxv
of Kentucky. It stands on a high narrow plain between the moun-
tains and the river, which is fast devouring the bank, and encroach-
ing on the town ; part of the front street is gone already, and xin-
less some effectual means are soon taken the whole must go by
piecemeal. This town contains about one hundred houses, chiefly
log and frames. From this place I set out on foot for Washington.
On the road, at the height of several hundred feet above the pre-
sent surface of the river, I found prodigious quantities of petrified
shells of the small cockle and fan-shaped kind, but whether ma-
rine remains or not am uncertain. I have since found these petri-
fied concretions of shells universal all over Kentucky wherever I
have been. The rocks look as if one had collected heaps of broken
shells and wrought them up among clay, then hardened it into
stone. These rocks lie universally in horizontal strata. A farmer
in the neighbourhood of Washington assured me, that from seven
acres he reaped at once eight thousand weight of excellent hemp,
fit for market.
Amidst very tempestuous weather I reached the town of Cin-
cinnati, which does honour to the name of the old Roman, and is
the neatest and handsomest situated place I have seen since I left
Philadelphia. You must know that during an unknown series of
ages the river Ohio has gradually sunk several hundred feet below
its former bed, and has left on both sides, occasionally, what are
called the first or nearest, and the second or next, high bank,
the latter of which is never overflowed.
The town of Cincinnati occupies two beautiful plains, one on
the first, and the other on the second bank, and contains upwards
of five hundred houses, the greater proportion of which are of brick.
One block house is all that remains of Fort Washington. The
river Licking comes in from the opposite shore, where the town of
Newport, of forty or fifty houses, and a large arsenal and barracks,
are lately erected. Here I met with judge Turner, a man of extra-
ordinary talents, well known to the literati of Philadelphia. He
2 I
VOL. IX.
CXXVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
exerted himself in my behalf with all the ardour of an old friend.
A large Indian mound in the vicinity of this town has been lately
opened by doctor Drake, who showed me the collection of curiosi-
ties which he had found in that and others. In the centre of this
mound he also found a large fragment of earthen ware, such as I
found at the Big Grave, which is a pretty strong proof that these
works had been erected by a people, if not the same, differing lit-
tle from the present race of Indians, whose fragments of earthen
ware, dug up about their late towns, correspond exactly with these.
Twenty miles below this I passed the mouth of the Great Miami,
which rushes in from the north, and is a large and stately river,
preserving its pure waters uncontaminated for many miles with
those of the Ohio, each keeping their respective sides of the chan-
nel. I rambled up the banks of this river for four or five miles,
and in my return shot a Turkey. I also saw five or six deer in a
drove, but they were too light-heeled for me.
In the afternoon of the 15th I entered Big Bone Creek, which
being passable only about a quarter of a mile, I secured my boat,
and left my baggage under the care of a decent family near, and
set out on foot five miles through the woods for the Big Bone Lick,
that great antediluvian rendezvous of the American elephants.
This place, which lies ‘‘far in the windings of a sheltered vale,”
afforded me a fund of amusement in shooting ducks and paroquets,
(of which last I skinned twelve, and brought off two slightly woun-
ded,) and in examining the ancient buffalo roads to this great lick-
ing place. Mr. Colquhoun, the proprietor, was not at home, but
his agent and manager entei tained me as well as he was able, and
was much amused with my enthusiasm. This place is a low valley
everywhere surrounded by high hills ; in the centre, by the side of
the creek, is a quagmire of near an acre, from which, and another
smaller one below, the chief part of these large bones have been
taken ; at the latter places I found numerous fragments of large
bones lying scattered about. In pursuing a wounded duck across
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxxvu
this quagmire, I had nearly deposited my carcass among the grand
congregation of mammoths below, having sunk up to the middle,
and had hard struggling to get out. As the proprietor intends to
dig in various places this season for brine, and is a gentleman of
education and intelligence, I have strong hopes that a more com-
plete skeleton of that animal called the mammoth, than has yet
been found, will be procured. I laid the strongest injunctions on
the manager to be on the look out, and to preserve every thing ; I
also left a letter for Mr. Colquhoun to the same purport, and am
persuaded that these will not be neglected. In this neighbourhood
I found the Columbo plant in great abundance, and collected some
of the seeds. Many of the old stalks were more than five feet high.
I have since found it in various other parts of this country. In the
afternoon of the next day I returned to my boat, replaced my bag-
gage, and rowed twenty miles to the Swiss settlement, where I
spent the night. These hardy and industrious people have now
twelve acres closely and cleanly planted with vines from the Cape
of Good Hope. They last year made seven hundred gallons of
wine, and expect to make three times as much the ensuing season.
Their houses are neat and comfortable, they have orchards of peach
and apple trees, besides a great number of figs, cherries, and other
fruit trees, of which they are very curious. They are of opinion
that this part of the Indiana Territory is as well suited as any part
of France to the cultivation of the vine, but the vines they say re-
quire different management here from what they were accustomed
to in Switzerland. I purchased a bottle of their last vintage, and
drank to all your healths as long as it lasted in going down the
river. Seven miles below this I passed the mouth of Kentucky
river, which has a formidable appearance. I observed twenty or
thirty scattered houses on its upper side, and a few below, many
of the former seemingly in a state of decay. It rained on me
almost the whole of this day, and I was obliged to row hard and
drink healths to keep myself comfortable. My birds’ skins were
cxxvm
LIFE OF WILSON.
wrapt up in my great coat, and my own skin had to sustain a com-
plete drenching, which, however, had no bad eflFects. This even-
ing I lodged at the most wretched hovel I had yet seen. The
owner, a meager diminutive wretch, soon began to let me know of
how much consequence he had formerly been; that he had gone
through all the war with general Washington — had become one of
his Ufe-gtiards, and had sent many a British soldier to his long
home. As I answered him with indifference, to interest me the
more he began to detail anecdotes of his wonderful exploits ; One
grenadier,” said he, “had the impudence to get up on the works,
and to wave his cap in defiance; my commander [general Wash-
ington I suppose] says to me, “Dick, says he, can’t you pepper
that there fellow for me ?” says he. “ Please your honour, says I,
ril try at it ; so I took a fair, cool and steady aim, and touched
my trigger. Up went his heels like a turkey ! down he tumbled !
one buckshot had entered here and another here, [laying a finger on
each breast] and the bullet found the way to his brains right through
his forehead. By God he was a noble looking fellow!” Though I
believed every word of this lobe a lie, yet I could not but look with
disgust on the being who uttered it. This same miscreant pro-
nounced a long prayer before supper, and immediately after called
out, in a splutter of oaths, for the pine splinters to be held to let
the gentleman see. Such a farrago of lies, oaths, prayers, and po-
liteness, put me in a good humour in spite of myself. The whole
herd of this filthy kennel were in perpetual motion with the itch,
so having procured a large fire to be made, under pretence of habit
I sought for the softest plank, placed my trunk and great coat at
my head, and stretched myself there till morning. I set out early
and passed several arks. A number of turkies which I observed
from time to time on the Indiana shore, made me lose half the
morning in search of them. On the Kentucky shore I was also de-
coyed by the same temptations, but never could approach near
enough to shoot one of them. These affairs detained me so that
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXXIX
I was dubious whether I should be able to reach Louisville that
night. Night came on and I could hear nothing of the Falls;
about eight I first heard the roaring of the Rapids, and as it in-
creased I was every moment in hopes of seeing the lights of Louis-
ville; but no lights appeared, and the noise seemed now within
less than half a mile of me. Seriously alarmed, lest I might be
drawn into the suction of the Falls, I cautiously coasted along
shore, which was full of snags and saxvyers, and at length, with
great satisfaction, opened Bear Grass Creek, where I secured my
skiff to a Kentucky boat, and loading myself with my baggage, I
groped my way thi'ough a swamp up to the town. The next day
I sold my skiflf for exactly half what it cost me ; and the man who
bought it wondered why I gave it such a droll Indian name, (the
Ornithologist) “ some old chief or warrior I suppose,” said he.
This day I walked down along shore to Shippingport, to take a view
of these celebrated Rapids, but they fell far short of my expectation.
I should have no hesitation in going down them in a skiflf. The
Falls of Oswego, in the state of Newyork, though on a smaller
scale, are far more dangerous and formidable in appearance.
Though the river was not high, I observed two arks and a barge
run them with great ease and rapidity. The Ohio here is some-
thing more than a mile wide, with several islands interspersed ;
the channel rocky, and the islands heaped with drift wood. The
whole fall in two miles is less than twenty-four feet. The town of
Louisville stands on a high second bank, and is about as large as
Frankford, having a number of good brick buildings and valuable
shops. The situation would be as healthy as any on the river, but
for the numerous swamps and ponds that intersect the woods in
its neighbourhood. These from their height above the river might
all be drained and turned into cultivation ; but every man here is
so intent on the immediate making of money, that they have neither
time nor disposition for improvements, even where the article
health is at stake. A man here told me that last fall he had four-
2 K
VOL. IX.
cxxx
LIFE OF WILSON.
teen sick in his own family. On Friday the 24th, I left iny bag-
gage with a merchant of the place to be forwarded by the first
wagon, and set out on foot for Lexington, seventy-two miles dis-
tant. I passed through Middletown and Shelbyville, both incon-
siderable places. Nine-tenths of the country is in forest ; the sur-
face undulating into gentle eminences and declivities, between each
of which generally runs a brook over loose flags of limestone. The
soil, by appearance, is of the richest sort. I observed immense
fields of Indian corn, high excellent fences, few grain fields, many
log houses, and those of the meaner sort. I took notice of few ap-
ple orchards, but several very thriving peach ones. An appear-
ance of slovenliness is but too general about their houses, barns,
and barn-yards. Negroes are numerous ; cattle and horses lean,
particularly the former, who appear as if struggling with starvation
for their existence. The woods are swai'ining with pigs, pigeons,
squirrels and woodpeckers. The pigs are universally fat, owing
to the great quantity of mast this year. Walking here in wet wea-
ther is most execrable, and is like travelling on soft soap ; a few
days of warm weather hardens this again almost into stone, A¥ant
of bridges is the greatest inconvenience to a foot traveller here.
Between Shelbyville and Frankfort, having gone out of my way to
see a pigeon roost, (which by the by is the greatest curiosity I have
seen since leaving home) I waded a deep creek called Benson, nine
or ten times. I spent several days in Frankfort, and in rambling
among the stupendous cliffs of Kentucky river. On Thursday
evening I entei'ed Lexington. But I cannot do justice to these sub-
jects at the conclusion of a letter, which, in spite of all my abridg-
ments, has far exceeded in length what I first intended. My next
will be from Nashville. I shall then have seen a large range of
Kentucky, and be more able to give you a correct delineation of
the country and its inhabitants. In descending the Ohio, I amused
myself with a poetical narrative of my expedition, which I ha-ve
called “ The Pilgiim,’ an extract from which shall close this long
and I am afraid tiresome letter.’’
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxxxi
To Mr. ALEXANDER LAWSON.
Nashville, Tennessee, April 2%th, 1810.
“ My Dear Sir,
“ Before setting out on my journey through the wilderness to
Natchez, I sit down to give you, according to promise, some ac-
count of Lexington, and of my adventures through the state of
Kentucky. These I shall be obliged to sketch as rapidly as pos-
sible. Neither my time nor my situation enables me to detail par-
ticulars with any degree of regularity ; and you must condescend
to receive them in the same random manner in which they occur,
altogether destitute of fanciful embellishment; with nothing but
their novelty, and the simplicity of truth, to recommend them.
I saw nothing of Lexington till I had approached within half
a mile of the place, when the woods opening, I beheld the town be-
fore me, on an irregular plain, ornamented with a small white spire,
and consisting of several parallel streets, crossed by some others ;
many of the houses built of brick ; others of frame, neatly painted ;
but a great proportion wore a more humble and inferior appearance.
The fields around looked clean and well fenced; gently undulating,
but no hills in view. In a hollow between two of these parallel
streets, ran a considerable brook, that, uniting with a larger a little
below the town, drives several mills. A large quarry of excellent
building stone also attracted my notice as I entered the town. The
main street was paved with large masses from this quarry, the foot
path neat, and guarded by wooden posts. The numerous shops
piled with goods, and the many well dressed females I passed in
the streets ; the sound of social industry, and the gay scenery of
“ the busy haunts of men,” had a most exhilarating effect on my
spirits, after being so long immured in the forest. My own appear-
ance, I believe, was to many equally interesting; and the shopkeep-
ers and other loungers interrogated me with their eyes as I passed,
CXXXll
LIFE OF WILSON.
with symptoms of eager and inquisitive curiosity. After fixing my
quarters, disposing of my arms, and burnishing myself a little, I
walked out to have a more particular view of the place.
This little metropolis of the western country is nearly as large
as Lancaster in Pennsylvania. In the centre of the town is a pub-
lic square partly occupied by the courthouse and market place, and
distinguished by the additional ornament of the pillory and stocks.
The former of these is so constructed as to serve well enough, if
need be, occasionally for a gallows, which is not a bad thought;
for as nothing contributes more to make hardened villains than the
pillory, so nothing so effectually rids society of them as the gal-
lows ; and every knave may here exclaim
“ My bane and antidote are both before me.’^
I peeped into the courthouse as I passed, and though it was court
day I was struck with the appearance its interior exhibited ; for,
though only a plain square brick building, it has all the gloom of
the Gothic, so much admired of late, by our modern architects.
The exterior walls, having, on experiment, been found too feeble
for the superincumbent honours of the roof and steeple, it was found
necessary to erect, from the floor, a number of large, circular, and
unplastered brick pillars, in a new order of architecture, (the thick
end uppermost,) which, while they serve to impress the spectators
with the perpetual dread that they will tumble about their ears,
contribute also, by their number and bulk, to shut out the light,
and to spread around a reverential gloom, producing a melancholy
and chilling effect; a very good disposition of mind, certainly, for
a man to enter a court of justice in. One or two solitary individu-
als stole along the damp and silent floor ; and I covdd just descry,
elevated at the opposite extremity of the building, the judges sitting,
like spiders in a window corner, dimly distinguishable through the
intermediate gloom. The market place, which stands a little to
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXXXlli
the westward of this, and stretches over the whole breadth of the
square, is built of brick, something like that of Philadelphia, but is
unpaved and unfinished. In wet weather you sink over the shoes
in mud at every step; and here again the wisdom of the police is
manifest; as nobody at such times will wade in there unless forced
by business or absolute necessity; by which means a great number
of idle loungers are, very properly, kept out of the way of the mar-
ket folks.
I shall say nothing of the nature or quantity of the commodi-
ties which I saw exhibited there for sale, as the season was unfa-
vourable to a display of their productions ; otherwise something
better than a few cakes of black maple sugar, wrapt up in greasy
saddle-bags, some cabbage, chewing tobacco, catmint and turnip
tops, a few bags of meal, sassafras-roots, and skinned squirrels cut
up into quarters — something better than all this, I say, in the pro-
per season, certainly covers the stalls of this market place, in the
metropolis of the fertile country of Kentucky.*
^ This letter, it should seem, gave offence to some of the inhabitants of Lexington ; and
a gentleman residing in that town, solicitous about its reputation, undertook, in a letter to the
editor of the Port Folio, to vindicate it from strictures which he plainly insinuated were the off-
spring of ignorance, and unsupported by fact.
After a feeble attempt at sarcasm and irony, the Ictter-writer thus proceeds : “ I have too
great a respect for Mr. Wilson, as your friend, not to believe he had in mind some other mar-
ket house than that of Lexington, when he speaks of it as ‘ unpaved and unfinished’ ! But the
people of Lexington would be gratified to learn what your ornithologist means by ‘ skinned
squirrels cut up into quarters,’ which curious anatomical preparations he enumerates among
the articles he saw in the Lexington market. Does Mr, Wilson mean to joke upon us ? If
this is wit we must confess that, however abundant our country may be in good substantial
matter-of-fact salt, the attic tart is unknown among us.
“ I hope, however, soon to see this gentleman’s American Ornithology. Its elegance of
execution, and descriptive propriety, may assuage the little pique we have taken from the
author.”
The editor of the Port Folio having transmitted this letter to Wilson, previous to sending
it to press, it was returned with the following note :
2 L
VOL. IX.
CXXXIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
The horses of Kentucky are the hai diest in the world, not so
much by nature as by education and habit. From the commence-
ment of their existence they are habituated to every extreme of
starvation and gluttony, idleness and excessive fatigue. In Sum-
mer they fare sumptuously every day. In Winter, when not a
blade of grass is to be seen, and when the cows have deprived
them of the very bark and buds of every fallen tree, they are rid-
den into town, fifteen or twenty miles, through roads and sloughs
that would become the graves of any common animal, with a fury
and celerity incomprehensible by you folks on the other side of the
Alleghany. They are there fastened to the posts on the sides of
the streets, and around the public square, where hundreds of them
may be seen, on a court day, hanging their heads from morning to
“ TO THE EDITOR OF THE PORT FOLIO.
BartrarrC s Gardens-, Jtdy \&th, 1811.
“ Dear Sir,
“ No man can have a more respectful opinion of the people of Kentucky,
particularly those of Lexington, than myself; because I have traversed nearly the whole extent
of their country, and witnessed the effects of their bravery, their active industry, and daring
spirit for enterprise. But they would be gods, and not men, were faultless,
“ 1 am sorry that truth will not permit me to retract, as mere jokes, the few disagreeable
things alluded to. I certainly had no other market place in view, than that of Lexington, m
the passage above mentioned. As to the circumstance of ‘ skinned squirrels, cut up into quar-
ters\ which seems to have excited so much sensibility, I candidly acknowledge myself to have
been incorrect in that statement, and I owe an apology for the same. On referring to my notes
taken at the time, I find the word ‘ halves', not quarters ; that is, those ‘ curious anatomical
preparations’, (skinned squirrels) were brought to market in the form of a saddle of venison ;
not in that of a leg or shoulder of mutton.
“ With this correction, 1 beg leave to assure your very sensible correspondent, that the
thing itself was no joke, nor meant for one ; but, like all the rest of the particulars of that
sketch, ‘ good substantial matter of fact’.
“ If these explanations, or the perusal of my American Ornithology, should assuage the
‘ little pique’ in the minds of the good people of Lexington, it will be no less honourable
to their own good sense, than agreeable to your humble servant,” &c.^'
* Port Folio for August, 1811.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxxxv
night, in deep cogitation, ruminating perhaps on the long expected
return of spring and green herbage. The country people, to their
credit be it spoken, are universally clad in plain homespun ; soap,
however, appears to be a scarce article ; and Hopkins’s double cut-
ters would find here a rich harvest, and produce a very improving
efifect. Though religion here has its zealous votaries ; yet none
can accuse the inhabitants of this flourishing place of bigotry, in
shutting out from the pale of the church or church yard any human
being, or animal whatever. Some of these sanctuaries are open at
all hours, and to every visitor. The birds of heaven find a hun-
dred passages through the broken panes ; and the cows and hogs
a ready access on all sides. The wall of separation is broken
down between the living and the dead ; and dogs tug at the car-
cass of the horse, on the grave of his master. Lexington, however,
with all its faults, which a few years will gradually correct, is an
honourable monument of the enterprise, courage and industry of
its inhabitants. Within the memory of a middle aged man, who
gave me the information, there were only two log huts on the spot
where this city is now erected ; while the surrounding country was
a wilderness, rendered hideous by skulking bands of bloody and
ferocious Indians. Now numerous excellent institutions for the
education of youth, a public library, and a well endowed university,
under the superintendence of men of learning and piety, are in suc-
cessful operation. Trade and manufactures are also rapidly in-
creasing. Two manufactories for spinning cotton have lately been
erected ; one for woollen ; several extensive ones for weaving sail
cloth and bagging, and seven I'ope-walks, which, according to one
of the proprietors, export annually ropeyarn to the amount of
150,000 dollars. A taste for neat and even elegant buildings is
fast gaining ground; and Lexington, at present, can boast of men
who do honour to science, and of females whose beauty and amia-
ble manners would grace the first circles of society. On Saturday,
April 14th, I left this place for Nashville, distant about 200 miles.
CXXXVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
I passed through Nicholasville, the capital of Jessamine county, a
small village begun about ten years ago, consisting of about twen-
ty houses, with three shops and four taverns. The woods were
scarcely beginning to look green, which to me was surprising, hav-
ing been led by common report to believe, that spring here is much
earlier than in the lower parts of Pennsylvania. I must further
observe, that instead of finding the woods of Kentucky covered
with a profusion of flowers, they were, at this time, covered with
rotten leaves and dead timber, in every stage of decay and confu-
sion ; and I could see no difierence between them and our own,
but in the magnitude of the timber, and superior richness of the
soil. Here and there the white blossoms of the Sanguinaria cana-
densis, or red root, wei'e peeping through the withered leaves ; and
the buds of the buckeye, or horse chesnut, and one or two more,
were beginning to expand. Wherever the hackberry had fallen,
or been cut down, the cattle had eaten the whole bark from the
trunk, even to that of the roots.
Nineteen miles from Lexington I descended a long, steep and
rocky declivity, to the banks of Kentucky river, which is here about
as wide as the Schuylkill ; and winds away between prodigious
perpendicular cliffs of solid limestone. In this deep and romantic
valley the sound of the boat horns from several Kentucky arks,
which were at that instant passing, produced a most charming
effect. The river, I was told, had already fallen fifteen feet ; but
was still high. I observed great numbers of uncommon plants
and flowers growing among the cliffs; and a few solitary bank
swallows were skimming along the surface. Reascending from
this, and travelling for a few miles, I again descended avast depth
to another stream called Dick’s river, engulfed among the same
perpendicular masses of rock. Though it was nearly dark I found
some curious petrifactions, and some beautiful specimens of mother
of pearl on the shore. The roaring of a mill-dam, and the rattling
of the mill, prevented the ferryman from hearing me till it was
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXXXVll
quite night; and I passed the rest of the road in the dark, over a
rocky country, abounding with springs, to Danville. This place
stands on a slight eminence, and contains about eighty houses,
chiefly log and frame buildings, disposed in two parallel streets,
crossed by several others. It has two ropewalks and a woollen
manufactory; also nine shops and three taverns. I observed a
great many sheep feeding about here, amidst fields of excellent
pasture. It is, however, but a dull place. A Roman Catholic
chapel has been erected here, at the expense of one or two indivi-
duals. The shopkeepers trade from the mouth of Dick’s river
down to Neworleans, with the common productions of the country,
flour, hemp, tobacco, pork, corn and whiskey. I was now 180
miles from Nashville, and, as I was informed, not a town or village
on the whole route. Every day, however, was producing wonders
in the woods, by the progress of vegetation. The blossoms of the
sassafras, dogwood, and red bud, contrasted with the deep green
of the poplar and buckeye, enriched the scenery on every side ;
while the voices of the feathered tribes, many of which were to me
new and unknown, were continually engaging me in the pursuit.
Emerging from the deep solitude of the forest, the rich green of the
grain fields, the farm house and cabins embosomed amidst orchards
of glowing purple and white, gave the sweetest relief to the eye.
Not far from the foot of a high mountain, called Mulders Hill, I
overtook one of those family caravans so common in this country,
moving to the westward. The procession occupied a length of
road, and had a formidable appearance, though as I afterwards un-
derstood it was composed of the individuals of only a single family.
In the front went a wagon drawn by four horses, driven by a negro,
and filled with implements of agriculture ; another heavy loaded
wagon, with six horses, followed, attended by two persons ; after
which came a numerous and mingled group of horses, steers, cows,
sheep, hogs, and calves with their bells ; next followed eight boys
mounted double, also a negro wench with a white child before her;
2 M
VOL. IX.
CXXXVlll
LIFE OF WILSON.
then the mother with one child behind her, and another at the
breast; ten or twelve colts brought up the rear, now and then pick-
ing herbage, and trotting ahead. The father, afresh good looking
man, informed me, that he was from Washington county in Ken-
tucky, and was going as far as Cumberland river ; he had two
ropes fixed to the top of the wagon, one of which he guided him-
self, and the other was entrusted to his eldest son, to keep it from
oversetting in ascending the mountain. The singular appearance
of this moving group, the mingled music of the bells, and the
shoutings of the drivers, mixed with the echoes of the mountains,
joined to the picturesque solitude of the place, and various reflec-
tions that hurried through my mind, interested me greatly ; and I
kept company with them for some time, to lend my assistance if
necessary. The country now became mountainous, perpetually
ascending and descending ; and about 49 miles from Danville I
passed through a pigeon roost, or rather breeding place, which
continued for three miles, and, from information, extended in length
for more than forty miles. The timber was chiefly beech; every
tree was loaded with nests, and I counted, in different places, more
than ninety nests on a single tree. Beyond this I passed a large
company of people engaged in erecting a horse-mill for grinding
grain. The few cabins I passed were generally poor ; but much
superior in appearance to those I met with on the shores of the
Ohio. In the evening I lodged near the banks of Green river.
This stream, like all the rest, is sunk in a deep gulf between high
perpendicular walls of limestone; is about thirty yards wide at this
place, and runs with great rapidity, but, as it had fallen consider-
ably, I was just able to ford it without swimming. The water was
of a pale greenish colour, like that of the Licking, and some other
streams, from which circumstance I suppose it has its name. The
rocky banks of this river are hollowed out in many places into
caves of enormous size, and of great extent. These rocks abound
with the same masses of petrified shells so universal in Kentucky.
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXXXIX
In the woods, a little beyond this, I met a soldier, on foot, from
Neworleans, who had been robbed and plundered by the Choctaws
as he passed through their nation. “ Thirteen or fourteen Indians,”
said he, “ surrounded me before I was aware, cut away my canteen,
tore off my hat, took the handkerchief from my neck, and the shoes
from my feet, and all the money I had from me, which was about
forty-five dollars.” Such was his story. He was going to Chilli-
cothe, and seemed pretty nearly done up. In the afternoon I cross-
ed another stream of about twenty-five yards in width, called Lit-
tle Barren ; after which the country began to assume a new and
very singular appearance. The woods, which had hitherto been
stately, now degenerated into mere scrubby saplings, on which not
a bud was beginning to unfold, and grew so open that I could see
for a mile through them. No dead timber or rotting leaves were
to be seen, but the whole face of the ground was covered with rich
verdure, interspersed with a variety of very beautiful flowers alto-
gether new to me. It seemed as if the whole country had once
been one general level ; but that from some unknown cause the
ground had been undermined^ and had fallen m, in innumerable
places, forming regular funnel-shaped concavities of all dimensions,
from twenty feet in diameter, and six feet in depth, to five hundred
by fifty, the surface or verdure generally unbroken. In some ti acts
the surface was entirely destitute of trees, and the eye was present-
ed with nothing but one general neighbourhood of these concavi-
ties, or, as they are usually called, sink-holes. At the centre, or
bottom of some of these, openings had been made for water. In
several places these holes had broken in, on the sides, and even
middle of the road, to an unknown depth ; presenting their grim
mouths as if to swallow up the unwary traveller. At the bottom
of one of those declivities, at least fifty feet below the general level,
a large rivulet of pure water issued at once from the mouth of a
cave about twelve feet wide and seven high. A number of very
singular sweet smelling lichens grew over the entrance, and a
cxl
life of WILSON.
Pevvee had fixed her nest, like a little sentry box, on a projecting
shelf of the rock above the water. The height and dimensions
of the cave continued the same as far as I waded in, which might
be thirty or forty yards, but the darkness became so great that I
was forced to return. I observed numbers of small fish sporting
about, and I doubt not but these abound even in its utmost subter-
ranean recesses. The whole of this country from Green to Red
river, is hollowed out into these enormous caves, one of which,
lately discovered in Warren county, about eight miles from the
Dripping Spring, has been explored for upwards of six miles, ex-
tending under the bed of the Green river. The entrance to these
caves generally commences at the bottom of a sinkhole ; and many
of them are used by the inhabitants as cellars or spring-houses,
having generally a spring or brook of clear water running through
them. I descended into one of these belonging to a Mr. Wood,
accompanied by the proprietor, who carried the light. At first
the darkness was so intense that I could scarcely see a few feet be-
yond the circumference of the candle; but, after being in for five
or six minutes, the objects around me began to make their appear-
ance more distinctly. The bottom, for fifteen or twenty yards at
first, was so irregular that we had constantly to climb ovei laige
masses of wet and slippery rocks ; the roof rose in many places to
the height of twenty or thirty feet, presenting all the most irregular
projections of surface, and hanging in gloomy and silent horror.
We passed numerous chambers, or ofifsetts, which we did not ex-
plore ; and after three hours wandering in these profound regions
of glooms and silence, the particulars of which would detain me too
long, I emerged with a handkerchief filled with bats, including one
which I have never seen described; and a number of extraordinaiy
insects of the Gryllus tribe, with antennae upwards of six inches
long, and which I am persuaded had never before seen the light
of day, as they fled from it with seeming terror, and I believe were
as blind in it as their companions the bats. Great quantities of
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxli
native glauber salts are found in these caves, and are used by the
country people in the same manner, and with equal effect, as those
of the shops. But the principal production is saltpetre, which is
procured from the earth in great abundance. The cave in Warren
county abovementioned has lately been sold for three thousand
dollars to a saltpetre company, an individual of which informed me
that, from every appearance, this cave had been known to the In-
dians many ages ago ; and had evidently been used for the same
purposes. At the distance of more than a mile from the entrance,
the exploring party, on their first visit, found the roof blackened
by smoke, and bundles of half burnt canes scattered about. A
bark mockasin, of curious construction, besides several other Indi-
an articles, were found among the rubbish. The earth, also, lay
piled in heaps, with great regularity, as if in preparation for extract-
ing the saltpetre.
Notwithstanding the miserable appearance of the timber on
these barrens, the soil, to my astonishment, produced the most
luxuriant fields of corn and wheat I had ever before met with. But
one great disadvantage is the want of water, for the whole running
streams, with which the surface of this country evidently once
abounded, have been drained off to a great depth, and now murmur
among these lower regions secluded from the day. One forenoon
I rode nineteen miles without seeing water; while my faithful horse
looked round, but in vain, at every hollow, with a wishful and lan-
guishing eye, for that precious element. These barrens furnished
me with excellent sport in shooting grous, which abound here in
great numbers ; and in the delightful groves that here and theie
rise majestically from these plains, I found many new subjects for
my Ornithology. I observed all this day, far to the right, a range
of high rocky detached hills, or knobs, as they are called, that skirt
the Barrens, as if they had been once the boundaries of the great
lake that formerly covered this vast plain. These, I was told,
abound with stone coal and copperas, I crossed Big Barren river
2N
VOL. IX.
cxlii
LIFE OF WILSON.
in a ferry boat, where it was about one hundred yards wide ; and
passed a small village called Bowling Green, near which I rode my
horse up to the summit of one of these high insulated rocky hills,
or knobs, which overlooked an immense circumference of country,
spreading around bare and leafless, except where the groves ap-
peared, in which there is usually water. Fifteen miles from this,
induced by the novel character of the country, I put up for several
days, at the house of a pious and worthy presbyterian, whence I
made excursions, in all directions, through the surrounding coun-
try. Between this and Red river the country had a bare and de-
solate appearance. Caves continued to be numerous ; and report
made some of them places of concealment for the dead bodies of
certain strangers who had disappeared there. One of these lies
near the banks of the Red river, and belongs to a person of the
name of , a man of notoriously bad character, and strongly
suspected, even by his neighbours, of having committed a foul mur-
der of this kind, which was related to me with all its minutiae of
hoiTors. As this man’s house stands by the road side, I was in-
duced by motives of curiosity to stop and take a peep of him. On
my arrival I found two persons in conversation under the piazza,
one of whom informed me that he was the landlord. He was a
dark mulatfo, rather above the common size, inclining to corpu-
lency, with legs small in proportion to his size, and w^alUed lame.
His countenance bespoke a soul capable of deeds of darkness. I
had not been three minutes in company when he invited the other
man (who I understood was a traveller) and myself to walk back
and see his cave, to which I immediately consented. The entrance
is in the perpendicular front of a rock, behind the house; has a
door with a lock and key to it, and was crowded with pots of milk,
placed near the running stream. The roof and sides of solid rock,
were wet and dropping with water. Desiring to walk be-
fore with the lights, 1 followed with my hand on my pistol, recon-
noitei’ing on every side, and listening to his description of its length
LIFE OF WILSON.
and extent. After examining this horrible vault for forty or fifty
yards, he declined going any farther, complaining of a rheumatism;
and I now first perceived that the other person had staid behind,
and that we two were alone together. Confident in my means of
self defence, whatever mischief the devil might suggest to him, I
fixed my eye steadily on his, and observed to him, that he could
not be ignorant of the reports circulated about the country relative
to this cave. "'I suppose,” said I, “you know what I mean?”
“ Yes, I understand you,” returned he, without appearing the least
embarrassed, “that I killed somebody and threw them into this
cave — I can tell you the whole beginning of that damned lie,” said
he; and, without moving from the spot, he detailed to me a long
story, which would fill half my letter, to little purpose, and which,
with other particulars, I shall reserve for your amusement when
we meet. I asked him why he did not get the cave examined by
three or four reputable neighbours, whose report might rescue his
character from the suspicion of having committed so horrid a crime.
He acknowledged it would be well enough to do so ; but did not
seem to think it worth the ti’ouble ; and we returned as we advan-
ced, walking before with the lights. Whether this man
be guilty or not of the transaction laid to his charge I know not ;
but his manners and aspect are such as by no means to allay sus-
picion.
After crossing Red river, which is here scarce twenty yards
broad, I found no more barrens. The timber was large, and the
woods fast thickening with green leaves. As I entered the state
of Tennessee the face of the country became hilly, and even moun-
tainous. After descending an immense declivity, and coursing
along the rich valley of Manskers creek, where I again met with
large flocks of paroquets, I stopt at a small tavern, to examine, for
three or four days, this part of the country. Here I made some
interesting additions to my stock of new subjects for the Ornitho-
logy. On the fourth day I crossed the Cumberland where it is
■B. M BYWRhARTf
West Chm.e7 Pa.,
... —
cxliv
LIFE OF WILSON.
about two hundred and fifty yards wide, and of great depth, boun-
ded as usual with high precipitous banks, and reached the town of
Nashville, which towers like a fortress above the river. Here I
have been busily employed these eight days ; and send you the
enclosed parcel of drawings, the i*esult of every moment of leisure
and convenience I could obtain. Many of the birds are altogether
new ; and you will find along with them every explanation neces-
sary for your purpose.
You may rest assured of hearing from me by the first oppor-
tunity after my arrival at Natchez. In the meantime I receive
with much pleasure the accounts you give me of the kind inquiries
of my friends. To me nothing could be more welcome ; for whe-
ther journeying in this world, or journeying to that which is to
come, there is something of desolation and despair in the idea of
being for ever forgotten in our absence, by those whom we sincerely
esteem and regard.”
To Mr. ALEXANDER LAWSON.
Natchez, Mississippi Ter., May I8//2, 1810.
Dear Sir,
About three weeks ago I wrote to you from Nash-
ville, enclosing three sheets of drawings, which I hope you have re-
ceived.* I was at that time on the point of setting out for St. Lou-
is ; but being detained a week by constant and heavy rains, and
considering that it would add four hundred miles to my journey,
and detain me at least a month ; and the season being already far
advanced, and no subscribers to be expected there, I abandoned
the idea, and prepared for a journey through the wilderness. I
was advised by many not to attempt it alone ; that the Indians
* These drawings never came to hand.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxlv
were dangerous, the swamps and rivers almost impassable without
assistance, and a thousand other hobgoblins were conjured up to
dissuade me from going alone. But I weighed all these matters in
my own mind ; and attributing a great deal of this to vulgar fears
and exaggerated reports, I equipt myself for the attempt. I rode
an excellent horse, on which I could depend ; I had a loaded pistol
in each pocket, a loaded fowling piece belted across my shoulder,
a pound of gunpowder in my flask, and five pounds of shot in my
belt. I bought some biscuit and dried beef, and on Friday morn-
ing, May 4th, I left Nashville, About half a mile from town I ob-
served a poor negro with two wooden legs, building himself a cabin
in the woods. Supposing that this journey might afford you and
my friends some amusement, I kept a particular account of the
various occurrences, and shall transcribe some of the most inter-
esting, omitting every thing relative to my Ornithological excur-
sions and discoveries, as more suitable for another occasion. Elev-
en miles from Nashville I came to the Great Harpath, a stream of
about fifty yards wide, which was running with great violence. I
could not discover the entrance of the ford, owing to the rains and
inundations. There was no time to be lost, I plunged in, and al-
most immediately my horse was swimming. I set his head aslant
the current, and being strong, he soon landed me on the other
side. As the weather was warm, I rode in my wet clothes without
any inconvenience. The country to-day was a perpetual succes-
sion of steep hills and low bottoms; I crossed ten or twelve large
creeks, one of which I swam with my horse, where he was near
being entangled among some bad drift wood. Now and then a
solitary farm opened from the woods, where the negro children
were running naked about the yards. I also passed along the
north side of a high hill, where the whole timber had been pros-
trated by some terrible hurricane. I lodged this night in a miner%
who told me he had been engaged in forming no less than thirteen
companies for hunting mines, all of whom had left him. I advised
20
VOL. IX.
cxlvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
him to follow his farm as the surest vein of ore he could work.
Next day (Saturday) I first observed the cane growing, which in-
creased until the whole woods were full of it. The road this day
winded along the high ridges of mountains that divide the waters
of the Cumberland from those of the Tennessee. I passed few
houses to-day; but met several parties of boatmen returning from
Natchez and Neworleans ; who gave me such an account of the
road, and the difficulties they had met with, as served to stiffen my
resolution to be prepared for every thing. These men were as
dirty as Hottentots; their dress a shirt and trowsers of canvass,
black, greasy, and sometimes in tatters; the skin burnt wherever
exposed to the sun; each with a budget, wrapt up in an old blan-
ket; their beards, eighteen days old, added to the singularity of
their appearance, which was altogether savage. These people came
from the various tributary streams of the Ohio, hired at forty or
fifty dollars a trip, to return back on their own expenses. Some
had upwards of eight hundred miles to travel. When they come
to a stream that is unfordable, they coast it for a fallen tree : if
that cannot be had, they enter with their budget on their head, and
when they lose bottom, drop it on their shoulders, and take to
swimming. They have sometimes fourteen or fifteen of such
streams to pass in a day, and morasses of several miles in length,
that I have never seen equalled in any country. I lodged this night
at one Dobbins’s, where ten or twelve of these men lay on the floor.
As they scrambled up in the morning, they very generally com-
plained of being unwell, for which they gave an odd reason, lying
xviihin doors, it being the first of fifteen nights they had been so in-
dulged. Next morning (Sunday) I rode six miles to a man’s of
the name of Grinder, where our poor friend Lewis perished.* In
^ It is hardly necessary to state that this was the brave and enterprising traveller whose
journey, across the Rocky Mountains, to the Pacific Ocean, has obtained for him well-merited
celebrity. The true cause of his committing the rash deed, so feelingly detailed above, is not
yet known to the public ; but his friends will not soon forget the base imputations and cruel ne-
glect, which the honourable mind of the gallant soldier knew not how to brook.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxlvii
the same room where he expired, I took down from Mrs. Grinder
the particulars of that melancholy event, which affected me ex-
tremely. This house or cabin is seventy-two miles from Nashville,
and is the last white man’s as you enter the Indian country. Go-
vernor Lewis, she said, came thither about sunset, alone, and in-
quired if he could stay for the night; and, alighting, brought his
saddle into the house. He was dressed in a loose gown, white,
striped with blue. On being asked if he came alone, he replied
that there were two servants behind, who would soon be up. He
called for some spirits, and drank a very little. When the servants
arrived, one of whom was a negro, he inquired for his powder, say-
ing he was sure he had some powder in a canister. The servant
gave no distinct reply, and Lewis, in the mean while, walked back-
wards and forwards before the door, talking to himself. Some-
times, she said, he would seem as if he were walking up to her;
and would suddenly wheel round, and walk back as fast as he could.
Supper being ready he sat down, but had eaten only a few mouth-
fuls when he started up, speaking to himself in a violent manner.
At these times, she says, she observed his face to flush as if it had
come on him in a fit. He lighted his pipe, and drawing a chair to
the door sat down, saying to Mrs. Grinder, in a kind tone of voice,
“ Madam, this is a very pleasant evening.” He smoked for some
time, but quitted his seat and traversed the yard as before. He
again sat down to his pipe, seemed again composed, and casting
his eyes wistfully towards the west, observed what a sweet evening
it was. Mrs. Grinder was preparing a bed for him; but he said he
would sleep on the floor, and desired the servant to bring the bear
skins and buffalo robe, which were immediately spread out for him;
and it being now dusk the woman went off to the kitchen, and the
two men to the barn, which stands about two hundred yards off.
The kitchen is only a few paces from the room where Lewis was,
and the woman being considerably alarmed by the behaviour of
her guest could not sleep, but listened to him walking backwards
cxlviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
and forwards, she thinks, for several hours, and talking aloud, as
she said, “ like a lawyer.” She then heard the report of a pistol,
and something fall heavily on the floor, and the words “ 0 Lord!"
Immediately afterwards she heard another pistol, and in a few
minutes she heard him at her door calling out “ 0 madam ! give
me some water, and heal my wounds" The logs being open, and
unplastered, she saw him stagger back and fall against a stump that
stands between the kitchen and room. He crawled for some dis-
tance, raised himself by the side of a tree, where he sat about a
minute. He once more got to the room ; afterwards he came to
the kitchen door, but did not speak; she then heard him scraping
the bucket with a gourd for water ; but it appears that this cooling
element was denied the dying man ! As soon as day broke and not
before, the terror of the woman having permitted him to remain
for two hours in this most deplorable situation, she sent two of her
children to the barn, her husband not being at home, to bring the
servants ; and on going in they found him lying on the bed ; he
uncovered his side, and shewed them where the bullet had enter-
ed ; a piece of the forehead was blown off, and had exposed the
brains, without having bled much. He begged they would take
his rifle and blow out his brains, and he would give them all the
money he had in his trunk. He often said, “I am no coward; but
I am so strong, so hard to die" He begged the servant not to be
afraid of him, for that he would not hurt him. He expired in about
two hours, or just as the sun rose above the trees. He lies buried
close by the common path, with a few loose rails thrown over his
grave. I gave Grinder money to put a post fence round it, to shel-
ter it from the hogs, and from the wolves ; and he gave me his
written promise he would do it. I left this place in a very melan-
choly mood, which was not much allayed by the prospect of the
gloomy and savage wilderness which I was just entering alone.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxlix
I was roused from this melancholy reverie by the roaring of
Buffalo river, which I forded with considerable difficulty. I passed
two or three solitary Indian huts in the course of the day, with a
few acres of open land at each ; but so wretchedly cultivated that
they just make out to raise maize enough to keep in existence.
They pointed me out the distances by holding up their fingers.
This is the country of the Chickasaws, though erroneously laid
down in some maps as that of the Cherokees. I slept this night
in one of their huts ; the Indians spread a deer skin for me on the
floor, I made a pillow of my portmanteau, and slept tolerably well ;
an old Indian laid himself down near me. On Monday morning
I rode fifteen miles, and stopt at an Indian’s to feed my horse.
The sight of my paroquet brought the whole family around me.
The women are generally naked from the middle upwards ; and
their heads, in many instances, being rarely combed, look like a
large mop ; they have a yard or two of blue cloth wrapt round by
way of petticoat, that reaches to their knees — the boys were gene-
rally naked; except a kind of bag of blue cloth by way of fig-leaf.
Some of the women have a short jacket, with sleeves, drawn over
their naked body, and the rag of a blanket is a general appendage.
I met to-day two officers of the United States army, who gave me
a better account of the road than I had received. I passed through
many bad swamps to-day; and at about five in the evening eame
to the banks of the Tennessee, which was swelled by the rains, and
is about half a mile wide thirty miles below the Muscle shoals, and
just below a long island laid down in your small map. A growth
of canes, of twenty and thirty feet high, covers the low bottoms;
and these cane swamps are the gloomiest and most desolate look-
ing places imaginable. I hailed for the boat as long as it was light,
without effect; I then sought out a place to encamp, kindled a
large fire, stript the canes for my horse, eat a bit of supper, and
lay down to sleep ; listening to the owls, and the Chuck-Wilh-Wi-
doxv, a kind of Whip-poor-Will^ that is very numerous here. I got
2 P
VOL. IX.
cl
LIFE OF WILSON.
up several times during the night to recruit my fire, and see how
iny horse did ; and, but for the gnats, would have slept tolerably
well. These gigantic woods have a singular effect by the light of
a large fire ; the whole scene being circumscribed by impenetrable
darkness, except that in front, where every leaf is strongly defined,
and deeply shaded. In the morning I hunted until about six, when
I again renewed my shoutings for the boat, and it was not until
hear eleven that it made its appearance. I was so enraged at this
delay, that, had I not been cumbered with baggage, I believe I
should have ventured to swim the river. I vented my indignation
on the owner of the boat, who is a half breed, threatening to pub-
lish him in the papers, and advis6 every traveller I met to take the
upper ferry. This man charges one dollar for man and horse, and
thinks, because he is a chief, he may do in this way what he pleases.
The country now assumed a new appearance; no brush wood — no
fallen or rotten timber ; one could see a mile through the woods,
which were covered with high grass fit for mowing. These woods
are burnt every spring, and thus are kept so remarkably clean that
they look like the most elegant noblemen’s parks. A profusion of
flowers, altogether new to me, and some of them very elegant, pre-
sented themselves to my view as I rode along. This must be a
heavenly place for the botanist. The most observable of these
flowers was a kind of Sweet William of all tints, from white to the
deepest crimson. A superb Thistle, the most beautiful I had ever
seen. A species of Passion flower very beautiful. A stately plant
of the Sunflower family — the button of the deepest orange, and the
radiating petals bright carmine, the breadth of the flower about
four inches. A large white flower like a deer’s tail. Great quan-
tities of the Sensitive plant, that shrunk instantly on being touched,
covered the ground in some places. Almost every flower was new
to me, except the Carolina Pink-root, and Columbo, which grew
in abundance on every side. At Bear creek, which is a large and
rapid stream, I first observed the Indian boys with their Blow-gtms.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cli
These are tubes of cane seven feet long, and pei’feetly straight
when well made. The arrows are made of slender slips of cane,
twisted, and straightened before the fire, and covered for several
inches at one end with the down of thistles in a spiral form, so as
just to enter the tube. By a puflf they can send these with such
violence as to enter the body of a partridge twenty yards off. I
set several of them a hunting birds by promises of reward, but
not one of them could succeed. I also tried some of the blow-guns
myself, but found them generally defective in straightness. I met
six parties of boatmen to-day, and many straggling Indians, and
encamped about sunset near a small brook, where I shot a turkey,
and on returning to my fire found four boatmen, who stayed with
me all night, and helped to pick the bones of the turkey. In the
morning I heard the turkies gobbling ail round me, but not wish-
ing to leave my horse, having no great faith in my guests’ honesty,
I proceeded on my journey. This day (Wednesday) I passed
through the most horrid swamps I had ever seen. These are co-
vered with a prodigious growth of canes, and high woods, which
together, shut out almost the whole light of day for miles. The
banks of the deep and sluggish creeks, that occupy the centre, are
precipitous, where I had often to plunge my horse seven feet down,
into a bed of deep clay up to his belly; from which nothing but
great strength and exertion could have rescued him; the opposite
shore was equally bad, and beggars all description. For an extent
of several miles, on both sides of these creeks, the darkness of night
obscures every object around. On emerging from one of the worst
of these I met General Wade Hampton, with two servants, and a
pack-horse, going, as he said, towards Nashville. I told him of
the mud campaign immediately before him; I was covered with
mire and wet, and I thought he looked somewhat seiuous at the
difficulties he was about to engage. He has been very sick lately.
About half an hour before sunset, being within sight of the Indian’s
where I intended to lodge, the evening being perfectly clear and
clii
LIFE OF WILSON.
calm, I laid the reins on my horse’s neck, to listen to a Mocking
Bird,' the first I had heard in the Western country, which, perched
on the top of a dead tree before the door, was pouring out a torrent
of melody. I think I never heard so excellent a performer. I
had alighted, and was fastening my horse, when hearing the report
of a rifle immediately beside me, I looked up and saw the poor
Mocking Bird fluttering to the ground. One of the savages had
marked his elevation, and barbarously shot him. I hastened over
into the yard, and walking up to him, told him that was bad, very
bad ' That this poor bird had come fi'om a far distant country to
sing to him, and that in return he had cruelly killed him. I told
him the Great Spirit was offended at such cruelty, and that he
would lose many a deer for doing so. The old Indian, father-in-
law to the bird-killer, understanding by the negro interpreter what
I said, replied, that when these birds come singing and making a
noise all day near the house, somebody xvill surely which is ex-
actly what an old superstitious German near Hampton in Virginia
once told me. This fellow had married the two eldest daughters
of the old Indian, and presented one of them with the bird he had
killed. The next day I passed through the Chickasaw Big-town,
which stands on the high open plain that extends through their
country, three or four miles in breadth, by fifteen in length. Here
and there you perceive little groups of miserable huts, formed of
saplings, and plastered with mud and clay ; about these are gene-
rally a few peach and plumb trees. Many ruins of others stand
scattered about, and I question whether there were twenty inhabit-
ed huts within the whole range of view. The ground was red with
strawberries; and the boatmen were seen in straggling parties feast-
ing on them. Now and then a solitary Indian, wrapt in his blan-
ket, passed sullen and silent. On this plain are beds of shells, of a
large species of clam, some of which are almost entire. I this day
stopt at the house of a white man, who had two Indian wives, and
a hopeful string of young savages, all in their fig-leaves; not one
LIFE OF WILSON.
cliil
of them could speak a word of English. This man was by birth
a Virginian, and had been forty years among the Chickasaws. His
countenance and manners were savage and worse llian Indian. I
met many parties of boatmen to-day, and crossed a number of bad
swamps. The woods continued to exhibit the same open luxuriant
appearance, and at night I lodged at a white man’s, who has also
two wives, and a numerous progeny of young savages. Here I
met with a lieutenant of the United States army, anxiously inquir-
ing for General Hampton. On Friday the same open woods con-
tinued ; I met several parties of Indians, and passed two or three
of their hamlets. At one of these were two fires in the yard, and
at each, eight or ten Indians, men and women, squat on the ground.
In these hamlets there is generally one house built of a circular
form, and plastered thickly all over without and within with clay.
This they call a hot house, and it is the general winter quarters of
the hamlet in cold weather. Here they all kennel, and having
neither window nor place for the smoke to escape, it must be a
sweet place while forty or fifty of them have it in occupancy. Round
some of these hamlets were great droves of cattle, horses, and hogs.
I lodged this night on the top of a hill far from water, and suftei ed
severely for thirst. On Saturday I passed a number of most exe-
crable swamps, the weather was extremely warm, and I had been
attacked by something like the dysentery, which occasioned a con-
stant burning thirst, and weakened me greatly. I stopt this day
frequently to wash my head and throat in the water, to allay the
burning thirst, and putting on my hat, without wiping, received
considerable relief from it. Since crossing the Tennessee the
woods have been interspersed with pine, and the soil has become
more sandy. This day I met a Captain Hughes, a traveller, on
his return from Santa Fee. My complaint increased so much that
I could scarcely sit on horseback, and all night my mouth and
throat were parched with a burning thirst and fever. On Sunda\
I bought some raw eggs which I ate. I repeated the dose at mid-
2Q
VOL. IX.
cliv
LIFE OF WILSON.
day, and towards evening, and found great benefit from this sim-
ple remedy. I inquired all along the road for fresh eggs, and for
nearly a week made them almost my sole food, till I completed my
cure. The water in these cane swanips is little better than poison;
and under the heat of a burning sun, and the fatigues of travelling,
it is difficult to repress the urgent calls of thirst. On the Wednes-
day following, I was assailed by a tremendous storm of rain, wind,
and lightning, until I and my horse were both blinded by the del-
uge, and unable to go on. I sought the first most open place, and
dismounting stood for half an hour under the most profuse heaven-
ly shower-bath I ever enjoyed. The roaring of the storm w^as ter-
rible ; several trees around me w ere broken off, and torn up by the
roots, and those that stood were bent almost to the ground : limbs
of trees of several hundred weight flew past within a few yards of
me, and I was astonished how I escaped. I would rather take my
chance in a field of battle, than in such a tornado again.
On the fourteenth day of my journey, at noon, I arrived at
this place, having overcome every obstacle, alone, and without be-
ing acquainted with the country; and what surprised the boatmen
more, xvithoiit whisky. On an average I met from forty to sixty
boatmen every day, returning from this place and Neworleans.
The Chickasaws are a friendly, inoffensive people, and the Chac-
taw's, though more reserved, are equally harmless. Both of them
treated me with civility, though I several times had occasion to
pass through their camps, where many of them were drunk.
The paroquet wdiich I carried with me was a continual fund of
amusement to all ages of these people; and as they crowded around
to look at it, gave me an opportunity of studying their physiogno-
mies without breach of good manners.
In thus hastily running over the particulars of this journey, I
am obliged to omit much that would amuse and interest you; but
my present situation, a noisy tavern, crowded in every corner, even
in the room where I write, with the sons of riot and dissipation,
LIFE OF WILSON.
civ
prevents me from enlarging on particulars. I could also have
wished to give you some account of this place, and of the celebra-
ted Mississippi, of which you have heard so much. On these sub-
jects, however, I can at present only offer you the following slight
sketch, taken the morning after my arrival here.
The best view of this place and surrounding scenery, is from
the old Spanish fort on the south side of the town, about a quarter
of a mile distant. From this high point, looking up the river,
Natchez lies on your right, a mingled group of green trees, and
white and red houses, occupying an uneven plain, much washed
into ravines, rising as it recedes from the bluff or high precipitous
bank of the river. There is, however, neither steeple, cupola, nor
distinguished object to add interest to its appearance. The coun-
try beyond it to the right is thrown up into the same irregular
knolls ; and at the distance of a mile, in the same direction, you
have a peep of some cultivated farms, bounded by the general for-
est. On your left you look down, at a depth of two or three hundred
feet, on the river, winding majestically to the south; the interme-
diate space exhibiting wild perpendicular precipices of brown earth.
This part of the river and shore is the general rendezvous of all
the arks or Kentucky boats, several hundreds of which are at [)re-
sent lying moored there, loaded with the produce of the thousand
shores of this noble river. The busy multitudes below present a
perpetually varying picture of industry; and the noise and uproar,
softened by the distance, with the continual crowing of the poultry
with which many of these arks are filled, produce cheerful and ex-
hilirating ideas. The majestic Mississippi, swelled by his ten
thousand tributary streams, of a pale brown colour, half a mile
wide, and spotted with trunks of trees, that show the different
threads of the current and its numerous eddies, bears his depth of
water past in silent grandeur. Seven gun-boats, anchored at equal
distances along the stream, with their ensigns displayed, add to the
effect. A few scattered houses are seen on the low opposite shore,
clvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
where a narrow strip of cleared land exposes the high gigantic
trunks of some deadened timber that bound the woods. The whole
country beyond the Mississippi, from south round to west, and
north, presents to the eye one universal level ocean of forest, boun-
ded only by the horizon. So perfect is this vast level that not a
leaf seems to rise above the plain, as if shorn by the hands of hea-
ven. At this moment, while I write, a terrific thunder storm, with
all its towering assemblage of black alpine clouds, discharging
lightning in every direction, overhangs this vast level, and gives a
magnificence and sublime effect to the whole.
The foregoing letters present us with an interesting account
of our author’s journey until his arrival at Natchez, on the seven-
teenth of May. In his diary he says — “ This journey, four hun-
dred and seventy-eight miles from Nashville, I have performed
alone, through difficulties, which those who have never passed the
road could not have a conception of.” We may readily suppose
that he had not only difficulties to encounter, encumbered as he
necessarily was with his shooting apparatus, and bulky baggage,
but also dangers, in journeying through a frightful wilderness,
where almost impenetrable cane-swamps and morasses present ob-
stacles to the progress of the traveller, which require all his reso-
lution and activity to overcome. Superadded to which, as we are
informed, he had a severe attack of the dysentery, when remote
from any situation which could be productive of either comfort or
I'elief ; and he was under the painful necessity of trudging on, de-
bilitated and dispirited with a disease which threatened to put a
period to his existence. An Indian, having been made acquainted
with his situation, recommended the eating of strawberries, which
were then fully ripe, and in great abundance. On this delightful
fruit, and newly laid eggs, taken raw, he wholly lived tor several
days ; and he attributed his restoration to health to these simple
remedies.
LIFE OF WILSON.
civil
On the sixth of June our traveller reached Neworleans, distant
from Natchez two hundred and fifty-two miles. As the sickly sea-
son was fast approaching, it was deemed advisable not to tarry
long in this place ; and his affairs being despatched, he sailed on
the twenty-fourth in a ship bound to Newyork, at which place he
arrived on the thirtieth of July ; and soon reached Philadelphia,
enriched with a copious stock of materials for his work, including
several beautiful and hitherto unknown birds.*
In the newly settled country through which Wilson had to
pass, in his last journey, it was reasonable not to expect much en-
couragement in the way of subscriptions. Yet he was not only
honoured with the names of some respectable individuals ; but
also received hospitable treatment from several persons, and those,
too, to whom he had not been introduced. It is a singular fact,
that from those to whom he had letters of introduction, and from
whom most had been expected, he received the fewest acts of
civility.
The principal events of his journey have been given in his
letters ; but I might select from his diary many interesting pas-
sages, if the limits allotted to this memoir would admit of copious-
ness of detail.
* The editor of Wilson’s Poems, which were published at Paisley in 1816, gives what
he states to be an extract from one of our author’s letters to his father, wherein it is said that he
had travelled through West Florida to Neworleans, and had “ sailed thence to East Florida, fur-
nished with a letter to the Spanish Governor.” This passage needs explanation. Wilson was
never either in East or West Florida, but, in the event of his going thither, had provided him-
self with a letter of introduction from Don Luis de Onis, the Spanish ambassador to the United
States, to Don Enrique White, governor of East Florida, and another to Don Vincente Folch,
governor of West Florida. In his passage from Neworleans to Newyork, he merely landed,
for a few minutes, upon one or two desert islands lying in the Florida Gulf.
He departed from Philadelphia on the thirtieth of January, 1810; and returned on the se-
cond of August, of the same year. It is stated in his diary that the total amount of his expen-
ses, until his arrival in Newyork, was the sum of four hundred and fifty-five dollars. This
particular is given as a proof of how much may be performed, by a good economist, with slen-
der means.
2 R
VOL. IX.
clviii
life of WILSON.
It is not unusual for scholars to keep diaries when they travel.
These writings are eommonly the objeets of great euriosity, as
we are all anxious to know what were the impressions which the
incidents of a journey made upon the mind, when it was in the fit-
test state to receive them.
For the gratifieation of the reader I will make a few short
extracts from Wilson’s Journal, as specimens of his mode of wri-
ting these unstudied narratives.
“ March 9. — ^Visited a number of the literati and wealthy of
Cincinnati, who all told me that they would think of it, viz. of
subscribing : they are a very thoughtful people.
“ March 17. — Rained and hailed all last night, setoff at eight
o’clock, after emptying my boat of the deluge of water. Rowed
hard all day ; at noon recruited myself with some biscuits, cheese
and American wine. Reach the falls — night sets in — hear the
roaring of the rapids. After excessive hard work arrive at Bear-
grass creek, and fasten my boat to a Kentucky one. T ake my
baggage and grope my way to Louisville — put up at the Indian
Queen tavern, and gladly sit down to rest myself.
“ March 18. — Rose quite refreshed. Found a number of land
speculators here. Titles to lands in Kentucky subject to great
disputes.
« March 19. — Rambling round the town with my gun. Exa-
mined Mr. ’s drawings in crayons — very good. Saw two
new birds he had, both JMotcicilliS .
“ March 20. — Set out this afternoon with the gun — killed no-
thing new. People in taverns here devour their meals. Many
shopkeepers board in taverns — also boatmen, land speculators,
merchants, &c. JVb naturalist to keep me company.
“ March 21. — Went out this afternoon shooting with Mr. A.
Saw a number of Sandhill Cranes. Pigeons numeious.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clix
March 23.— Packed up my things which I left in the care
of a merchant here, to be sent on to Lexington; and having parted,
with great regret, with my parakeet, to the gentlemen of the tavern,
I bade adieu to Louisville, to which place I had four letters of
recommendation, and was taught to expect much of every thing
there ; but neither received one act of civility from those to whom
I was recommended, one subscriber, nor one new bird; though I
delivered my letters, ransacked the woods repeatedly, and visited
all the characters likely to subscribe. Science or literature has not
one friend in this place. Every one is so intent on making money
that they can talk of nothing else ; and they absolutely devour
their meals that they may return the sooner to their business.
Their manners correspond with their features.
Good country this for lazy fellows : they plant corn, turn
their pigs into the woods, and in the autumn feed upon corn and
pork— they lounge about the rest of the year.
“ March 24.— Weather cool. Walked to Shelbyville to break-
fast. Passed some miserable log-houses in the midst of rich fields.
Called at a ’Squire C.’s, who was rolling logs. Sat down beside
him, but was not invited in, though it was about noon.
March 29*— Finding my baggage not likely to come on, I
set out from Frankfort for Lexington. The woods swarm with
pigs, squirrels and woodpeckers. Arrive exceedingly fatigued.
Wherever you go you hear people talking of buying and
selling land ; no readers, all traders. The Yankies, wherever you
find them, are all traders. Found one here, a house carpenter,
who came from Massachusetts, and brought some barrels of apples
down the river from Pennsylvania to this town, where he employs
the negro women to hawk them about the streets, at thirty-seven
and a half cents per dozen.
“ Restless, speculating set of mortals here, full of lawsuits, no
great readers, even of politics or newspapers.
clx
LIFE OF WILSON.
The sweet courtesies of life, the innumerable civilities in
deeds and conversation, which cost one so little, are seldom found
here. Every man you meet with has either some land to buy or
sell, some law-suit, some coarse hemp or corn to dispose of, and if
the conversation do not lead to any of these he will force it. Stran-
gers here receive less civilities than in any place I have ever been
in. The respect due to the fatigues and privations of travellers is no
where given, because every one has met with as much, and thinks
he has seen more than any other. No one listens to the adven-
tures of another without interrupting the narrative with his own;
so that, instead of an auditor, he becomes a competitor in adven-
ture-telling. So many adventurers, also, continually wandering
about here, injure the manners of the people, for avarice and kna-
very prey most freely and safely upon passengers whom they may
never meet again.
These few observations are \vritten in Salter White’s garret,
with little or no fire, wood being a scarce article here — the forests
being a full /la//' mile distant.
“April 9.— Court held to-day, large concourse of people; not
less than one thousand horses in town, hitched to the side-posts—
no food for them all day. Horses selling by auction. Negro wo-
man sold same way: my reflections while standing by and hearing
her cried: Uhree hundred and twenty-five dollars for this woman
and boy ! going ! going !’ AVoman and boy afterwards weep. Damn-
ed damned slavery ! this is one infernal custom which the Virginians
have brought into this country. Rude and barbarous appearance
of the crowd. Hopkins’s double cutters much wanted here.
“April 10. ---Was introduced to several young ladies this af-
ternoon, whose agreeable society formed a most welcome contrast
to that of the lower orders of the other sex. Mrs. ^ an amia-
ble, excellent lady; think that savage ignorance, rudeness and boor-
ishness, was never so contrasted by female sweetness, affability
and intelligence.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxi
“ April 12.— Went this evening to drink tea with Mr. * * * ■
was introduced to Mrs. * * *, a most lovely, accomplished and
interesting woman. Her good sense and lively intelligence of a
cast far superior to that of almost any woman I have ever seen.
She is most unfortunately unwell with a nervous complaint, which
affects her head. She told me, most feelingly, that the spring,
which brings joy to every other being, brings sorrow to her, for in
winter she is always well.
“April 25. Breakfasted at Walton’s, thirteen miles from
Nashville. This place is a fine rich hollow, watered by a charm-
ing, clear creek, that never fails. Went up to Madison’s Lick,
where I shot three parakeets and some small birds.
“ April 26. Set out early, the hospitable landlord, Isaac Wal-
ton, refusing to take any thing for my fare, or that of my horse,
saying-“roM seem to be travelling for the good of the xvorld ; and
I cannot, I will not charge you any thing. Whenever you come this
way, call and stay with me, you shall be welcome !” This is the first
instance of such* hospitality which I have met with in the United
States.”
“ Wednesday, May 23. Left Natchez, after procuring twelve
subscribers ; and having received a kind letter of invitation from
William Dunbar, Esq., I availed myself of his goodness, and rode
nine miles along the usual road to his house ; where, though con-
fined to his bed by a severe indisposition, I was received with great
hospitality and kindness ; had a neat bed-room assigned me ; and
was requested to consider myself as at home during the time I
should find it convenient to stay in exploring this part of the
country.”
*■ The editor of Wilson’s Poems, in quoting this paragraph, omitted the word sucA, tiierc-
by intending to convey a charge of the want of hospitality in the American character, vvltich our
author rarely experienced. Wilson»s meaning is sufficiently obvious, without comment.
2 S
VOL. IX.
clxii
LIFE OF WILSON.
The letter above mentioned, which is now before me, is wor-
thy of transcription :
Foi'esty 20th Mays 1810.
“ Sir,
“ It is very unfortunate that I should be so much in-
disposed as to be confined to my bed-room ; nevertheless, I cannot
give up the idea of having the pleasure of seeing you as soon as
you find it convenient ; the perusal of your first volume of Orni-
thology, lent me by General Wilkinson, has produced in me a very
great desire of making your acquaintance.
“ I understand, from my boy, that you propose going in a
few days to Newox'leans, where you will see some small cabinets
of natural history that may interest you. But, as I presume it is
your intention to prosecute your inquiries into the interior of our
country, this cannot be done better than from my house, as your
head quarters ; where every thing will be made convenient to your
wishes. My house stands literally in the forest, and your beautiful
Orioles, with other elegant birds, are our court-yard companions.
“ The bearer attends you with a couple of horses, on the sup-
position that it maybe convenient for you to visit us to-day; other-
wise he shall wait upon you any other day that you shall appoint.
“ I am respectfully, &c.
WILLIAM DUNBAR.”
This excellent gentleman, whose hospitality was thus prompt-
ly excited, has since paid the debt of nature; and his grateful guest
fondly cherished, to the last hour of his existence, the remembrance
of those happy moments which had been passed in his society, and
that of his amiable and accomplished family.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxiii
To Mr. WILLIAM BARTRAM.
Philadelphia, September 2, 1810.
“ Incessant labour since my return, to make up my loss of
drawings, which were sent by post from Nashville, has hitherto
prevented me from paying you a visit. I am closely engaged on
my third volume. Any particulars relative to the history of the
Meadow Lark, Crow Black-bird, Snow Bunting, Cuckoo, Parakeet,
Nonpareil, Pinnated Grous, or Blue Grosbeak, if interesting, would
be received by me with much pleasure. I have lately received
from Michaux a number of rich specimens of birds, printed in co-
lours. I have since made some attempts at this kind of printing,
and have succeeded tolerably well.
“ Michaux has published several numbers of his American
Sylva, in Paris, with coloured plates. I expect them here soon.
“ I collected a number of entire new species in rny south-
western tour ; and in my return I visited several of the islands off
the Florida shore, where I met with some very curious land birds.
“Mr. Dunbar, of Natchez, remembered you very well, and
desired me to carry his good wishes to you.”
To Mr. Wm. DUNCAN, Frankford, Penn.
Philadelphia, February 12, 1811.
“ So, you have once more ascended the Preceptor’s rostrum,
to wield the terrors of the taws and hickory* Trying as this situa-
tion is, and various and distracting as its avocations sometimes un-
doubtedly are, it is elysium to the scenes which you have lately
emerged from ; and as far transcends these latter, as honourable
independence towers above despised and insulted servitude. You
clxiv
LIFE OF WILSON.
wish me to suggest any hints I may think proper for your present
situation. Your own experience and prudence render anything I
could advise unnecessary, as it is all included in the two resolutions
which you have already taken ; first, to distinguish, as clearly as
possible, the whole extent of your duty; and, secondly, to fulfil
every item of that to the best of your abilities. Accordingly, the
more extensive and powerful these are, the greater good you will
be capable of doing; the higher and more dignified will your re-
putation be ; and the easier and calmer will your deportment be,
under every circumstance of duty. You have but these two things
to surmount, and the whole routine of teaching will become an
agreeable amusement ; and every closing day will shed over your
mind that blissful tranquillity, “ which nothing earthly gives or
can destroy.”
“ Devote your whole time, except what is proper for needful
exercise, to rendering yourself completely master of your business.
For this purpose rise by the peep of dawn; take your regular walk;
and then commence your stated studies. Be under no anxiety to
hear what people think of you, or of your tutorship ; but study the
improvement, and watch over the good conduct, of their childien
consigned to your care, as if they were your own. Mingle respect
and affability with your orders and arrangements. Never show
yourself feverish or irritated ; but preserve a firm and dignified, a
just and energetic deportment, in every emergency. To be com-
pletely master of one’s business, and ever anxious to discharge it
with fidelity and honour, is to be great, beloved, respectable and
happy.
“I could have wished that you had been accommodated with
a room and boarding in a more private and retired situation, where
your time and reflections would have been more your own ; and
perhaps these may be obtained hereafter. Try to discover your
own defects, and labour with all your energy to supply them.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxv
Respect yourself, and fear nothing but vice and idleness. If one
had no other reward for doing one’s duty, but the grateful sensa-
tions arising therefrom on the retrospection, the recompense would
be abundant, as these alone are able to bear us up amidst every
reverse.
^ ^ ^ ^
“ At present I cannot enlarge further, my own mind being
harassed with difficulties relative to my publication. I have now
no farther dependence on Murray ; and I mean to make it consist-
ent both with the fame, and the interest, of Lawson to do his best
for me. I hope you will continue to let me hear from you, from
time to time. I anticipate much pleasure from the improvements
which I have no doubt you will now make in the several necessary
departments of your business. Wishing you every success in your
endeavours to excel, I remain, with sincere regard. See.”
To Mr. F. A. MICHAUX.
Philadelphia, June Gth^ 1812.
My dear friend,
“ I had the pleasure of receiving a letter
from you dated April 10, 1812; but living at Mr. Bartram’s, I
have not yet seen Mr. Correa, the gentleman who brought it over,
I have also had the great satisfaction of examining the plates of
your four numbers of Forest Trees, which are beautifully execu-
ted, and I regret most sincerely that my little knowledge of the
French language* prevents me from perusing, with equal satisfac-
* Wilson’s ignorance of French was a great disadvantage to him ; and he never ceased
to regret his want of instruction in a tongue, which is considered not only important to the
scholar, but indispensable to the naturalist. The number of works, in the various departments
of Natural History, which France annually produces, is truly astonishing ; and fortunate is that
student whose acquirements in her language enable him to profit of the knowledge of this illus-
trious nation.
2 T
VOL. IX.
clxvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
tion, the interesting particulars you relate of their history. I ex-
pected long before this to be able to congratulate you on the pub-
lication of a translation of your work here, and I announced the
same in the preface to one of my volumes ; but sorry I am to in-
form you that no steps have yet been taken to put that design in
execution, and I fear none will be taken for many months to come.
Unless there be an evident certainty of profit, booksellers, in gene-
ral, are very indifferent to publish works of any kind, however
great their merits may be; and the poor authors’ feelings are little
regarded. Few men have known this more experimentally than
myself. I have sacrificed every thing to publish my Ornithology —
have written six volumes, and am engaged on the seventh. * * ^
I have frequently conversed with Mr. Bradford about pub-
lishing a translation of your Forest Trees ; and you may rest as-
sured that, should it be undertaken, I will use all my influence in
its favour. Were you here yourself, I have no doubt but it would
be undertaken, and I think with success, for all who have seen it
admire it. I procured our good friend, Mr. Wm. Bartram, a sight
of it, and he was greatly delighted with its appearance. One of
my friends read a great part of it in E7iglish to him, and he was
highly satisfied,
* * * * *
“ Dr. Barton has not yet published his General Zoology* which
he has been announcing, from time to time, for so many years. It
is much easier to say these things than do them. * *
* This work, which it was the intention of the late learned professor to entitle “ Elements
of Zoology,” after being ten years in the press was advanced no farther than fifty-six pages,
in octavo, at the death of the author. It does not appear that he left much manuscript matter
in continuation, consequently tire public will derive no benefit from a work which is too incom-
plete for publication. The printed sheets I have read, not only with satisfaction, but instruc-
tion ; and cannot forbear expressing my regret that an undertaking, which Dr. Barton certainly
knew how to perform, and to which his learning was adequate, should have been suffered to
perish in embryo. The art of concentrating his talents was one for which the professor was not
greatly distinguished.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxvii
“ Mr. Will. Bartram is still as you left him, and you are fre-
quently the subject of our conversation at table. I have made ma-
ny extensive excursions lately, and have discovered, in all, about
forty new species of Land Birds, never taken notice of by any
other writer. I am now engaged on the Water Birds ; and had
just returned yesterday from the seashore when your letter was
presented to me. Dr. H. and Mr. P. have both publickly announ-
ced your work, but as no translation has been yet made, it has not
been reviewed by any of our writers.
* * * * *
“ Wishing you all the success which is justly due to the la-
bours, journies, and investigations, you have made in behalf of Na-
tural History, I remain, &c.”
In September, 1812, Wilson undertook a journey into the east-
ei-n states, for the purpose of visiting his subscribers, and settling
accounts with his agents.
To Mr. GEORGE ORD.
Boston, October 13, 1812.
“ Dear Sir,
“It is not in my power at present to give yon any
thing more than a slight sketch of my rambles since leaving Phila-
delphia. My route up the Hudson afforded great pleasure, mingled
with frequent regret that you were not along with me, to share the
enjoyment. About thirty miles south of Albany we passed within
ten miles of the celebrated Catskill mountains, a gigantic group,
clothed with forest to the summits. In the river here I found our
common reed {Zizania aqiiaticd) growing in great abundance in
shoals extending along the middle of the river. I saw flocks of
Red-wings, and some Black Ducks, but no Rail, or Reed-birds.
clxviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
“ From this place my journey led me over a rugged, moun-
tainous country, to Lake Champlain, along which I coasted as far as
Hurlington in Vermont. Here I found the little Coot-footed Trin-
ga or Phalarope that you sent to Mr. Peale ; a new and elegantly
marked Hawk ; and observed some Black Ducks. The shores are
alternate sandy bays, and rocky headlands running into the lake.
Every tavern was crowded with officers, soldiers, and travellers.
Eight of us were left without a bed ; but having an excellent great
coat, I laid myself down in a corner with a determination of sleep-
ing in defiance of the uproar of the house, and the rage of my com-
panions, who would not disgrace themselves by a prostration of this
sort.
iit * ^ ^ ^
“ From Lake Champlain I traversed a rude mountainous re-
gion to Connecticut river, one hundred miles above Dartmouth
College. I spent several days with the gun in Groton, and Rye-
gale townships, and made some discoveries. From this I coasted
along the Connecticut to a place called Haverhill, ten miles from
the foot of Moose-hillock, one of the highest of the White Mountams
of Newhampshire. I spent the greater part of a day in ascending
to the peak of one of these majestic mountains, whence I had the
most sublime and astonishing view that was ever afforded me. One
immensity of forest lay below, extended on all sides to the farthest
verge of the horizon ; while the only prominent objects were the
columns of smoke from burning woods, that rose from various parts
of the earth beneath to the heavens; for the day was beautiful and
serene. Hence I travelled to Dartmouth, and thence in a direct
course to Boston. From Boston I passed through Portsmouth to
Portland, and got some things new; my return was by a different
route. I have procured three new and beautiful Hawks ; and have
gleaned up a stock of remarks that will be useful to me hereafter.
“ I hope, my dear sir, that you have been well since I left you.
I have myself been several times afflicted with a violent palpita-
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxix
tion of the heart,* and want to try whether a short voyage by sea
will not be beneficial.
“ In Newengland the rage of war, the virulence of politics, and
the pursuit of commercial speculations, engross every faculty.
The voice of Science, and the charms of Nature, unless these last
present themselves in the form of prize sugars, coffee, or nun, are
treated with contempt.”
The excursion to the White Mountains, above mentioned, was
succeeded by rather an unpleasant occurrence. The good people
of Haverhill perceiving a stranger among them of very inquisitive
habits, and who evinced great zeal in exploring the country, saga-
ciously concluded that he was a spy from Canada, employed in
taking sketches of the place, to facilitate the invasion of the ene-
my. Under these impressions it was thought conducive to the
public safety that Wilson should be apprehended ; and he was ac-
cordingly taken into the custody of a magistrate, who, on being
made acquainted with his character, and the nature of his visit, po-
litely dismissed him, with many apologies for the mistake.
The publication of the Ornithology now advanced as rapidly
as a due regard to correctness and elegance would admit. In or-
der to become better acquainted with the feathered tribes, and to
observe their migrations with more accuracy, as well as to enjoy
the important advantages of a rural retirement, Wilson resided
the better part of the years 1811-12 at the Botanic Garden of his
friend, Mr. Bartram. There removed from the noise, bustle, and
interruption of the metropolis, he was enabled to dispose of his
time to the best advantage ; for when fatigued with close applica-
tion within doors, to recruit his mind and body he had only to
cross the threshold of his abode, and he at once found himself sur-
This distressing disease, so well known to the literary student, Wilson was often afflict-
ed with.
VOL. IX.
2U
clxx
life of WILSON.
rounded by those acquaintance, the observing of whose simple
manners not only aflforded the most agreeable recreation, but who
were perpetually contributing to the great undertaking which he
was earnestly labouring to complete.
In the month of March, 1812, Wilson was chosen a member
of the Society of Artists of the United States; but in the spring of
the succeeding year a greater honour was conferred upon him by
his being elected a member of the American Philosophical Society
of Philadelphia.
To Mr. WILLIAM BARTRAM.
Philadelphia, Jlp7'il 21, 1813.
“ My dear friend,
“ I have been e.xtremely busy these several
months, my colourists having all left me; sol have been obliged to
do extra duty this last winter. Next week I shall publish my se-
venth volume ; and shall send you your copy with the earliest op-
portunity. I am now engaged with the Dueks, all of which, that I
am acquainted with, will be comprehended in the eighth volume.
“ Since I had the pleasure of seeing you, I have hardly left the
house half an hour ; and I long most ardently to breath once more
the fresh air of the country, and gaze on the lovely face of Nature.
Will it be convenient for the favnily to accommodate me (as I shall
be alone) this summer ? Please to let me know.
“ I lately received from the celebrated Mr. West a proof im-
pression of his grand historical picture of the death of Admiral
Nelson — a present which I highly value.
“ The Philosophical Society of Philadelphia have done me the
honour to elect me a member, for which I must certainly, in grati-
tude, make them a commvmication on some subject, this summer.
LIFE OF WILSON.
I long very much to hear from you ; and, with my best wishes for
your health and happiness, am very truly
Your sincere friend.”
As soon as the seventh volume of the Ornithology was pub-
lished, its author, and the writer of this sketch, set out on their last
expedition to Great Egg-harbour. There they remained for nearly
four weeks, constantly occupied in collecting materials for the
eighth volume, which Wilson had resolved should in no respects
fall short of the preceding ; but which should, if possible, enhance
his reputation by the value of its details, and the beauty of its em-
bellishments.
Immediately on his return to Philadelphia, he engaged anew
in his arduous avocation ; and by the month of August he had suc-
ceeded in completing the letter-press of the eighth volume, though
the whole of the plates were not finished. But unfortunately his
great anxiety to conclude the work condemned him to an excess
of toil, which, inflexible as was his mind, his bodily frame was
unable to bear. He was likewise by this flood of business prevent-
ed from residing in the country, where hours of mental lassitude
might have been beguiled by a rural walk, or the rough but invi-
gorating exercise of the gun. At length he was attacked by a dis-
ease, which, perhaps, at another period of his life might not have
been attended with fatal eflects, but which now, in his debilitated
state of body, and harassed mind, proved a mighty foe, whose as-
saults all the combined efforts of friendship, science and skill,
could not repel. The Dysentery, after a sickness of ten days,
closed the mortal career of Alexander Wilson, on the twenty-third
of August, 1813.
It may not be going too far to maintain, that in no age or na-
tion has there ever arisen one more eminently qualified for a natu-
ralist than the subject of these memoirs. He was not only an en-
thusiastic admirer of the works of creation, but he was consistent
clxxii
LIFE OF WILSON.
in research ; and permitted no dangers or fatigues to abate his ar-
dour, or relax his exertions. He inured himself to hardships by
frequent and laborious exercise ; and was never more happy than
when employed in some enterprise which promised from its diffi-
culties the novelties of discovery. Whatever was obtained with
ease, to him appeared to be attended, comparatively speaking, with
small interest : the acquisitions of labour alone seemed worthy of
his ambition. He was no closet philosopher — exchanging the
frock of activity for the night-gown and slippers. He was indebt-
ed for his ideas, not to books, which err, but to Nature which is
infallible; and the inestimable transcript of her works, which he
has bequeathed to us, possesses a charm which affects us the more,
the better acquainted we become with the delightful original. His
inquisitive habits procured him from others a vast heterogeneous
mass of information ; but he had the happy talent of selecting from
this rubbish whatever was valuable. His perseverance was un-
common ; and when engaged in pursuit of a particular object he
would never relinquish it, while there was a chance of success.
His powers of observation were very acute, and he seldom erred in
judgement when favoured with a fair opportunity of investigation.
Credulity has been aptly termed “ the vice of naturalists
but it may be said, to the honour of our author, that it would be
difficult to find one less infected with this vice than himself. His
mind, strongly imbued with common sense, and familiar with the
general laws of nature, could not be imposed upon by appearances;
and marvellous narratives, in that science which he had so much
at heart, were the objects of his decided disapprobation. The
ridicule and scorn with which he treated the hypothesis of the an-
nual torpidity of swallows are well known; and he regarded with
equal contempt those tales of the fascinating faculty attributed to
serpents, which are yet but too well adapted to the taste of the
multitude to be effectively discredited.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxiii
Having been ‘^something of a traveller/’ it would be reason-
able to conclude that Wilson had been familiar with “ novel
sights;” but we no where find that he ever beheld a toad leaping
into day from its rocky domicil of five thousand years, or a mer-
maid “ sleeking her soft alluring locks” in the sun. That wonder
of the “ vasty deep,” the Sea Serpent oi Gloucester, had not at-
tracted the attention of the public in his time ; but if it had, there
is little doubt that he would have promptly exerted himself to ex-
pose one of the grossest fictions that was ever palmed upon the
credulity of mankind.
That the industry of Wilson was great his work will for ever
testify. And our admiration is excited that so much should have
been performed in so short a time. When we take into considera-
tion the state of our country, as respects the cultivation of the phy-
sical sciences ; and that in the walk of Ornithology, particularly,
no one, deserving the title of a Naturalist, had yet presumed to
tread; when we view the labours of foreigners, who had interested
themselves in our natural productions, and find how incompetent
they were, through a deficiency of correct information, to instruct;
and then when we reflect that a single individual, without patron,
fortune, or recompense,'^ accomplished, in the space of seven years,
as much as the combined body of European naturalists took a cen-
tury to achieve, we feel almost inclined to doubt the evidence upon
which this conclusion is founded. But it is a fact, which we feel a
pride in asserting, that we have as faithful, eomplete, and interest-
ing an account of our birds in the estimable volumes of the Ameri-
can Ornithology, as the Europeans can at this moment boast of
possessing of theirs. Let those who question the correctness of
this opinion examine for themselves, and determine according to
the dictates of an unbiassed judgement.
We need no other evidence of the unparalleled industry of our
author, than the fact, that of ttvo hundred and seventy-eight species
2 X
VOL. IX.
clxxiv
life of WILSON.
which have been figured and described in his Ornithology,'^ fiftij-
six had not been taken notice of by any former naturalist ;f and
several of the latter number are so extremely rare, that the speci-
mens, from which the figures were taken, were the only ones that
he was ever enabled to obtain. This expensive collection of birds
was the result of many months of unwearied research amongst for-
ests, swamps and morasses, exposed to all the dangers, privations
and fatigues, incident to such an undertaking. What but a lemaik-
able passion for the pursuit, joined with the desire of fame, could
have supported a solitary individual in labours of body and mind,
compared to which the bustling avocations of common life aie
mere holyday activity or recreation !
Independent on that part of his work which was Wilson’s par-
ticular province, viz. the drawing and describing of his subjects,
he was necessitated to occupy much of his time in colouring the
plates ; his sole resource for support being in this employment, as
he had been compelled to relinquish the superintendence of the
Cyclopaedia. This drudgery of colouring the plates is a circum-
stance much to be regretted, as the work would have proceeded
more rapidly if he could have avoided it. One of his principal
difficulties, in effect, and that which caused him no small uneasi-
ness, was the process of colouring. If this could have been done
solely by himself; or, as he was obliged to seek assistance therein,
* The whole number of birds figured is three hundred and twenty.
■\ In this statement of the number of new species, I followed Wilson’s own catalogue,
wherein they are indicated. But it is proper to observe that Vieillot’s “ Oiseaux de VAme-
rique Septentrzonale'^ were never seen by our author ; otherwise he would have taken notice
that some of his supposed non-descripts were figured and described in the above-mentioned
costly work, which was published in Paris in the year 1807. Vieillot travelled in the United
States with the view of giving an account of our birds ; he published only two folio volumes,
with coloured plates; his publisher failed; and the copper-plates of the work, including those
intended for the third volume, were sold at public sale for old copper; and are now (1825) m
Philadelphia, and the property of William Maclure, Esq., the President of the Academy of
Natural Sciences of Philadelphia.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxv
if it could have been performed immediately under his eye, he
would have been relieved of much anxiety; and would have bet-
ter maintained a due equanimity; his mind being daily ruffled by
the negligence of his assistants ; who too often, through a deplora-
ble want of skill and taste, made disgusting caricatures of what
were intended to be modest imitations of simple nature.* Hence
much of his precious time was spent in the irksome employment of
inspecting and correcting the imperfections of others. This waste
of his stated periods of labour, he felt himself constrained to com-
pensate by encroachments on those hours which Nature, tenacious
of her rights, claims as her own: hours which she consecrates to
rest — which she will not forego without a struggle; and which all
those, who would preserve unimpaired the vigour of their mind
and body, must respect. Of this intense and destructive applica-
tion his friends failed not to admonish him ; but to their kind re-
monstrances he would reply, that “ life is short, and without exer-
tion nothing can be performed.” But the true cause of this extra-
ordinary toil was his poverty. By the terms of agreement with his
publisher, he was to furnish, at his own cost, all the drawings and
literary matter for the work; and to have the whole under his con-
* In the preface to the third volume, Wilson states the anxiety which he had suffered on
account of the colouring of the plates ; and of his having made an arrangement whereby his
difficulties on that score had been surmounted. This arrangement proved in the end of greater
injury than benefit.
The art of printing in colours is but little known in our country, and seldom practised ;
and the few attempts that have been made have only partially succeeded. An experiment of
this nature was undertaken upon several plates of this work, but with a success by no means
satisfactory. When Wilson commenced his labours every thing relating to them was new to
him ; and the difficulty of fixing the proper tints, upon an uniform black ground, was the great-
er, inasmuch as he had to experiment himself, unaided by the counsel or example of those to
whom the process was familiar.
The writer of this narrative has thought it his duty to state some of the embarrassments un-
der which Wilson laboured in the department of colouring the plates, in order to obviate criti-
cisms which too many are disposed to make on supposed faults; but if ail the difficulties were
made known, there would be no fear for the result among readers of candour, taste and judge-
ment.
clxxvi
life of WILSON.
trol and superintendence. The publisher stipulated to find funds
for the completion of the volumes. To support the heavy expense
of procui’ing materials, and other unavoidable expenditures, AVil-
son’s only resource, as has been stated, was in colouring the plates.
In the preface to the fifth volume he observes . The publi-
cation of an original work of this kind in this country has been
attended with difficulties, great, and, it must be confessed, some-
times discouraging to the author, whose only reward hitherto has
been the favourable opinion of his fellow-citizens, and the pleasure
of the pursuit.”
“ Let but the generous hand of patriotism be stretched forth
to assist and cherish the rising arts and literature of our country,
and both will most assuredly, and that at no remote period, shoot
forth, increase and flourish, with a vigour, a splendour and useful-
ness inferior to no other on earth.”
We have here an affirmation that the author had laboured
without reward, except what was conferred by inefficient praise ;
and an eloquent appeal to the generosity and patriotism of his fel-
low-citizens. Seven illustrious cities disputed the honour of having
given birth to the Prince of Epic song. Philadelphia first beheld
that phenomenon, the “ American Ornithology,” rising amidst her
boasted opulence, to vindicate the claims of a calumniated portion
of creation ; and to furnish her literary pride with a subject of ex-
ultation for ages to come. Yet duty calls upon us to record a
fact, which may cause our native city to feel the glow of shame.
Of all her literati, her men of benevolence, taste and riches, seven-
ty only, to the period of the author’s decease, had the liberality to
countenance him by a subscription, more than half of whom were
tradesmen, artists, and persons of the middle class of society; whilst
the little city of Neworleans, in the short space of seventeen days,
furnished sixty subscribers to the “American Ornithology!
Wilson was possessed of the nicest sense of honour. In all
his dealings he was not only scrupulously just, but highly generous.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxvii
His veneration for truth was exemplary. His disposition was so-
cial and affectionate. His benevolence was extensive. He was
remarkably temperate in eating and drinking, his love of study
and retirement preserving him from the contaminating influence
of the convivial circle. But as no one is perfect, Wilson in a small
degree partook of the weaknesses of humanity. He was of the
GeTius irritabile, and was obstinate in opinion. It ever gave him
pleasure to acknowledge error, when the conviction resulted from
his own judgement alone, but he could not endure to be told of
his mistakes. Hence his associates had to be sparing of their cri-
ticisms, through a fear of forfeiting his friendship. With almost
all his friends he had occasionally, arising from a collision of opin-
ion, some slight misunderstanding, which was soon passed over,
leaving no disagreeable impression. But an act of disrespect he
could ill brook, and a wilful injury he would seldom forgive.
In his person he was of a middle stature, of a thin habit of
body ; his cheek-bones projected, and his eyes, though hollow, dis-
played considerable vivacity and intelligence ; his complexion was
sallow, his mien thoughtful ; his features were coarse, and there
was a dash of vulgarity in his physiognomy, which struck the ob-
server at the first view, but which failed to impress one on acquain-
tance. His walk was quick when travelling, so much so that it
was difficult for a companion to keep pace with him ; but when in
the forests, in pursuit of birds, he was deliberate and attentive — he
was, as it were, all eyes, and all ears.
Such was Alexander Wilson, When the writer of this hum-
ble biography indulges in retrospection, he again finds himself in
the society of that individual, whose life was a series of those vir-
tues which dignify human nature; he attends him in his wild-wood
rambles, and listens to those charming observations which the
magnificence of creation was wont to give birth to ; he sits at his
feet, and receives the instructions of one, in science, so competent
2 Y
VOL. IX.
clxxviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
to teach ; he beholds him in the social circle, and notes the com-
placency which he inspired in all around. But the transition from
the past to the present quickens that anguish with which his heart
must be filled, who casts a melancholy look on those scenes a few
years since endeared by the presence of one, united to him by a
conformity of taste, disposition and pursuit, and who reflects that
that beloved friend can revisit them no more.
It was the intention of Wilson, on the completion of his Orni-
thology, to publish an edition in four volumes octavo; the figures
to be engraved in wood, somewhat after the manner of Bewick’s
British Birds ; and coloured with all the care that had been be-
stowed on the original plates. If he had lived to effect this scheme,
the public would have been put in possession of a work of consi-
derable elegance, as respects typography and illustrations ; where-
in the subjects would have been arranged in systematical order ;
and the whole at the cost of not more than one-fifth part of the
quarto edition.
lie likewise meditated a woi'k on the quadrupeds of the Uni-
ted States ; to be printed in the same splendid style of the Orni-
thology; the figures to be engraved with the highest finish, and by
the best artists of our country. How much has science lost in the
death of this ingenious and indefatigable naturalist !
His remains were deposited in the cemetery of the Swedish
church, in the district of Southwark, Philadelphia. While in the
enjoyment of health, he had conversed with a friend on the subject
of his death, and expressed a wish to be buried in some rural spot
sacred to peace and solitude, whither the charms of nature might
invite the steps of the votary of the Muses, and the lover of science,
and where the birds might sing over his grave.
It has been an occasion of regret to those of his friends, to
whom was confided the mournful duty of ordering his funeral, that
his desire had not been made known to them, otherwise it should
have been piously observed.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxix
A plain marble tomb marks the spot where lie the ashes of
this celebrated man ; it bears the following inscription :
“ This Monument
Covers the Remains of
ALEXANDER WILSON,
Author of the
AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY.
He was Born in Renfrewshire, Scotland,
On the 6 July, 1766;
Emigrated to the United States
In the year 1794;
And Died in Philadelphia
Of the Dysentery,
On the 23 August, 1813,
Aged 47.”
clxxx
LIFE OF WILSON.
I shall now offer some brief Remarks upon those writings of
Wilson which have fallen under my notice ; and in the perform-
ance of this task it will become my duty to speak of a work which
I had hoped would be permitted to lie in oblivion, but which either
the indiscreet partiality of friends, or the avarice of a publisher,
has lately dragged forth to the view of the public. From the vol-
ume which the author published himself, in the year 1791, and
which is entitled “Poems, Humorous, Satirical and Serious,’’ a se-
lection was made, and published, in 1816, at Paisley and London,
under the title of “ Poems chiefly in the Scottish dialect ; by Alex-
ander Wilson, author of American Ornithology.” When I com-
menced reading this selection, it was my intention to note its beau-
ties and defects ; but when I found how greatly the latter predomi-
nated, it occurred to me that no good could result from a critical
examination of a work which few would read, which contains no-
thing worthy of applause, and which, if it has hitherto escaped cri-
ticism, it is because it has been deemed unworthy of a deliberate
investigation.
The early writings of but few authors are worthy of being
read, except for the purpose of tracing the progress of the mind.
When one surveys the work in question with this view, one is
astonished to find no indication of that genius which is so conspi-
cuous in after life ; a barrenness of invention, a poverty of expres-
sion, a deficiency of taste and judgement, are its characteristics.
The author of the “ Biographical Sketch,” appended to the
Selection"*^ above mentioned, says, “We have it from Wilson’s
* It appears by the advertisement affixed to this selection, that it “ was made and printed
under the direction of a gentleman who has since paid the debt of nature and that “ it was his
intention to give the life of Wilson.’^ If one were allowed to form a conjecture of the abilities
of this editor, by the judgement displayed in his choice, one would have no reason to regret
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxxi
acquaintance, that many of the poems he had written were com-
mitted to the flames, without a moment’s consideration, because
the subject had lost its interest with himself.” The writer thus
gravely accounts for this conduct: “This instability of conduct
was, no doubt, the result of untoward circumstances, operating
upon a mind ardent in the pursuit of something yet undefined, or
uncertain of the path it should follow, to attain that eminence and
independence after which it so ardently aspired.” Would it not
be a more rational supposition, that, as he advanced in knowledge,
he was taught to reject what he could not but be convinced was
unworthy of the public eye.? If we may form a conjecture of what
was destroyed by what was sanctioned by his own act of publica-
tion, there is certainly no cause to mourn the loss ; and one can
hardly forbear wishing that the whole had met a similar fate.
Of all the poetical productions of Wilson, written while in
Scotland, his tale of “Watty and Meg” is the only one that has
obtained popularity. In Cromek’s “ Select Scottish Songs” it is
that his task was never accomplished. How he could admit such productions as “ The Wasp’s
Revenge,” and the “ Verses on the Death of a Favourite Spaniel,” one may well inquire.
That Wilson himself entertained a mean opinion of his boyish publication, I am authorized
to assert from the circumstance, that, though possessing a copy, he would never allow me to
read it, notwithstanding I frequently urged him to grant me this favour.
An itinerant Scotchman once called upon Wilson’s executors with a request that he might
be allowed the privilege of printing an edition of his poems, urging, in justification of the propo-
sition, his peculiar fitness, by his knowledge of the Scottish dialect^ for extending the fame of
the author of the American Ornithology ! It is needless to add that this poor schemer was
dismissed with the reply, that the fame of Wilson did not stand in need of his assistance.
It is much to the honour of the American press that it has abstained from re-printing the
work which, with unfeigned sorrow, I have been compelled, by a sense of duty, to animadvert
so severely upon. But I must confess that when a brother weaver, Robert Tannahill, was in-
troduced to our notice, I trembled for the fate of Wilson.
As has been stated, Wilson’s poem of the “ Foresters” was first published in the Port
Folio. Shortly after the decease of its author, a very modest and honest gentleman, living in
Pennsylvania, undertook its republication ; and actually took out a copy-right for the same.
That the poem was re-printed needs not excite our wonder; but that its sale should have been
monopolized by a patent, is a trick of trade well worthy of remark.
2 Z
VOL. IX.
clxxxii
LIFE OF WILSON.
thus introduced : " The reader is here presented with an exquisite
picture from low life, drawn with all the fidelity and exactness of
Teniers, or Ostade, and enlivened with the humour of Hogarth.
The story excites as much interest as if it had been written in a
dramatic form, and really repi*esented. The interest heightens as
it proceeds, and is supported with wonderful spirit to the close of
the poem.
“ It must have been in no small degree gratifying to the feel-
ings of the author, who published it anonymously, that, during a
rapid sale of seven or eight editions, the public, universally, ascri-
bed it to the pen of Burns. The author of “Will and Jean, or
Scotland’s Scaith,” had the candour to acknowledge to the editor
that he was indebted to this exquisite poem for the foundation of
that popular performance.”
This tale is certainly told in a spirited manner, but whether
it is entitled to all the encomiums which have been lavished upon
it or not, may admit of a question. The incidents are all common-
place : a dram-drinking husband seeking refuge, in an ale-house,
from a scolding wife, who pursues him thither, and upbraids him,
in no gentle terms, for deserting his home and family, and spend-
ing his time and substance among drunken blackguards. A pot
companion had advised him to try the experiment of threatening
to abandon her, in order to bring her into subjection : a scheme
which had had a happy effect in taming his own wife, who had
given evidence of a shrewish disposition. The experiment being
made by Watty, Meg is brought to terms. She solemnly promises
to keep her temper — never again to scold her husband — never to
follow him to the beer-house — never to put drunken to his name —
never to look sad when he shall come home late — never to kick
his shins, or pull his hair ; and lastly she consents, with tears, that
their hard earnings shall be kept solely by himself. The husband
rejoiced at this evidence of her humility and contrition kisses her,
and so the story ends.
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxxiii
In the management of this tale there is little art displayed ;
there is some natural description, it is true ; but the laws of poeti-
cal justice are but ill observed, when misconduct so glaring as that
of Watty’s is passed over without censure ; and he is allowed to
tiiumph over the subjection of a poor woman, whose temper had
become soured by his idleness and debauchery.
Such stoi les are not calculated to do good j on the contrary
they may promote vice; and surely the vice of intemperance is no
trifling evil in society. To blend instruction with amusement, we
are told, should be the aim of all writers of fiction, particularly
poets, whose influence over the mind has always been predominant.
It is justly remarked, by an elegant writer,^ that “ there seems to
be something in poetry that raises the possessors of that very sin-
gular talent far higher in the estimation of the world in general,
than those who excel in any other of the refined arts.” Then let
poets take heed lest they misapply those talents, which, if properly
directed, may be made subservient to the best interests of society.
In justice to our author I would remark, that though fond of
of describing scenes of low life, with which his education and ha-
bits had rendered him familiar, yet he appeared to have escaped
the contaminating influence of vulgar associates, when arrived at
manhood. His conduct, in this country, was truly exemplary.
This observation, though out of place, I here make, as it seems to
belong, incidentally, to the subject upon which I have been com-
menting.
The last edition of Watty and Meg, published under the in-
spection of the author, and by him corrected, was that given in the
Port Folio for October, 1810.
The poetic effusions of Wilson, after he came to America,
afford evidence of an improved taste. He acquired a facility of
versification by practice ; as his mind expanded with knowledge,
* Melmoth’s Fitzosbome, letter 53.
clxxxiv
LIFE OF WILSON.
his judgement received an accession of strength; and he displays
a fancy which we look for in vain in his juvenile essays. But we
must be understood as comparing him only with himself, at differ-
ent periods of his life. Whether or not he ever attained to posi-
tive excellence in poetry may be a subject of dispute.
In his “ Solitary Tutor” we are presented with a picture of
himself, while occupied in teaching a country school. The descrip-
tion of his place of residence, his schoolhouse, the adjoining forest,
where many of his leisure hours were passed, and where he first
commenced studying the manners of those birds which he subse-
quently immortalized in his splendid work, is animated and graphi-
cal. The fabric of these verses reminds us of the Minstrel, and
that he had this delightful poem in his eye, we are convinced by
some of the descriptions and sentiments. The stanza beginning
“ In these green solitudes, one favourite spot,”
is accurately descriptive of a place, in Bartram’s woods, whither
he used to retire for the purposes of reading and contemplation,
and where he planned his Ornithology. Of the faults of this little
poem I will merely remark, that the initial quatrain is prosaic; and
that the last line betrays an unaccountable deficiency of taste.
The lovers of rural scenery will learn with regret that this
fine piece of forest, consecrated to the Muses of poetry and natural
history by Wilson, is fast disappearing beneath the axe of the hus-
bandman. Already is the brook, which was “ o’erhung with alders
and mantling vines,” exposed to the glare of day; the favourite
haunts of the Wood Thrush are invaded ; and, ere long, like his
lamented historian, his place will be known there no more.
His poetical description of the Blue-bird, which originally
appeared in the first volume of the Ornithology, has been copied
into many publications, and still maintains its popularity. It
contains some ill-constructed lines, and some rhymes so grossly
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxxv
defective, that we wonder how he could have tolerated them in a
production of only half a dozen stanzas. The last quatrain of the
fourth stanza contains false syntax ; the construction is not regular
and dependent, the adverb so being out of place. In the third
stanza there is a grammatical error. Yet in this little poem Wil-
son’s happy talent of describing rural scenery, and the habits of
birds, is conspicuous. The picture is charming, and more so to
an American who knows how beautifully accurate are its outlines.
We see the disappearing of the snows of Winter ; the busy labours
of the fishermen ; the wild geese labouring their airy way to the
north ; the lone butterfly fluttering over the meadows ; the red
maple buds bursting into life; and, finally, the herald of Spring,”
the well-known Blue-bird, hailing “with his warblings the charms
of the season.” The warm sunshine brings out the frogs from
their retreats, and their piping is heard throughout the marshes ;
the woodland flowers unfold their charms to the eye ; and the in-
dustrious housewives repair to their gardens. The useful bird is
beheld flitting through the orchard in search of noxious insects, he
drags the devouring grub from the newly planted maize, and the
caterpillars from their webs. The ploughman is pleased to be-
hold him gleaning in his furrows, and the gardener suspends his
labours to listen to his simple song. “ When all the gay scenes of
the summer are o’er,” we observe him lingering about his native
home, like a solitary outcast; we hear his melancholy adieu from
the leafless branch, and mourn his departure as that of a beloved
friend.
Of all Wilson’s minor effusions this pleases me the most. Its
imagery is derived from objects that are familiar to us, but yet it
is not trite ; none but an attentive observer of nature could have
conceived it, and expressed it so naturally.
It appears to have been his intention to concentrate all his
poetical powers in his “Foresters,” resting his hope of fame chiefly
on this production. That the time spent in constructing it, might
3 A
VOL. IX.
clxxxvi
LIFE OF WILSON.
have been better employed in writing a simple prose narrative of
a journey, which was fruitful of interesting events, must be obvious
to many of the readers of this poem, who are acquainted with the
author’s talents for description, and his appropriate diction, of
which we are presented with examples in his letters and his Orni-
thology. On first reading this production such was my impression,
and a re-perusal has not induced me to change my opinion.
In his exordium he is not very happy:
“ Sons of the city! ye whom crowds and noise
Bereave of peace, and Nature’s rural joys.^^
The noise of a crowded city may bereave its inhabitants of peace,
but it is difficult to conceive how it can have a tendency to deprive
them of the delights of the country.
In the account of his companions and himself he is too cir-
cumstantial, details of this kind correspond not well with the dig-
nity of poetry:
“ An oilskin covering glittered round his head.”
A knapsack crammed by Friendship’s generous care
“ With cakes and cordials, drams, and dainty fare;
“ Flasks filled with powder, leathern belts with shot,
“ Clothes, colours, paper, pencils — and what not”
Also in another place:
“ Full-loaded peach trees drooping hung around,
“ Their mellow fruit thick scatter’d o’er the ground;
“ Six cents procured us a sufficient store,
“ Our napkins crammed and pockets running o^er”
Many of his rhymes are bad, particxdarly in the latter part of the
LIFE OF WILSON.
clxxxvii
poem, from the carelessness of the composition of which one is led
to conjecture that he was weary of his protracted labour. We
hawQ tale smile ; sent ivant ; and past; bespread and
clad ; and many other similar imperfections.
The conclusion of the poem is a specimen of slovenly and
inaccurate composition :
“ And when some short and broken slumbers came
“ Still round us roaring swept th’ outrageous stream ;
“ Whelm’d in the deep we sunk, engulf'd, forlorn ;
Or down the dreadful rapids helpless borne;
“ Groaning we start ! and, at the loudening war.
Ask our bewilder’d senses where we are."
In common with those who are ignorant of naval affairs, he com-
mits a blunder in the use of the technical term main^sheet, mistak-
ing it for a sail :
“ They trim their thundering sail,
“ The boom and main-sheet bending to the gale.”
The main-sheet is the rope by means of which the boom is govern-
ed, either eased off, or drawn in, as suits the state of the wind.
In a poem consisting of more than two thousand lines, it
would be strange if some touches of excellence could not be found,
some passages which prove that the author not only possessed poet-
ical ideas, but also was familiar with the art of poetical expression.
In his description of the calm, smoky, autumnal weather, which, in
America, is usually denominated the Indian Summer, we are pre-
sented with a beautiful image, which I do not recollect to have
seen elsewhere :
“ Slow sailed the thistle-down along the lawn.”
clxxxviii
LIFE OF WILSON.
The description of the Dutch farmer, and his habitation, would
not disgrace the author of Rip Van Winkle.
In the enumeration of the miseries of a country schoolmaster
there is much truth ; and the picture is vividly and feelingly drawn
from nature. Few had more experience than Wilson of the de-
graded condition of a teacher, when under the control of the vul-
gar and ignorant; a state, compared with which the lot of the hewer
of wood and drawer of water is truly enviable.
The account of daddy Squares, the settler, and that of Pat
Dougherty, the shopkeeper and publican, contain some humour.
The latter is a disgusting exhibition of one of those barbarians
whom the traveller often meets with in the interior of our coun-
try ; and whose ignorance, bestiality and vice, have the tendency
to disabuse one on the subject of the virtue and happiness usually
attributed to the inhabitants remote from our large cities, which,
instead of being the only nurseries of corruption, as is believed
and affirmed, are the great schools wherein science, literature, pie-
ty and manners, are most effectively taught, and most beneficially
practised.
The sketch of the Indian hunter is entitled to praise, as being
vigorous and picturesque; and the description of the Bald or Gray
Eagles, sailing amid the mist of the Cataract of Niagara, is a pic-
ture drawn with fidelity — it is poetical and sublime.
After this superficial review of the poems of Wilson, the ques-
tion will naturally arise, ought we to consider him as one endued
with those requisites, which entitle his productions to rank with
the works of the poets, properly so called ? To write smooth and
agreeable verses is an art of no very difficult purchase ; we see it
daily exemplified by persons of education, whose leisure permits
them to beguile a lonely hour with an employment at once delight-
ful and instructive. But when one considers the temporary nature
of the great mass of these fugitive essays, that they are read and
LIFE OF WILSON. clxxxix
remembered just so long as is the ephemeral sheet, or magazine, the
columns of which they adorn, one can form no high expectations of
the long life of that poetry which seldom rises beyond mediocrity,
which sometimes sinks greatly below it, and which is indebted, in
no small degree, to the adventitious aid of a name, resplendent in
another walk of literature, for that countenance and support, which
its own intrinsic merits, singly, could never claim,
I am aware that these brief observations on the poetry of Wil-
son are not calculated to give pleasure to those of his friends who
have been in the habit of regarding him as one possessing no small
claim to the inspiration of the Muses. But let such remember the
determination of a profound critic, that » no question can be more
innocently discussed than a dead poet’s pretensions to renown ;
and little regard is due to that bigotry which sets candour higher
than truth.”*
When Wilson commenced the publication of his History of
the Birds of the United States he was quite a novice in the study
of the Science of Ornithology. This arose fj*om two causes : his
poverty, which prevented him from owning the works of those
authors who had particularly attended to the classification and no-
menclature of birds, and his contempt of the labours of closet na-
turalists, whose dry descriptions convey any thing but pleasure to
that mind which has been disciplined in the school of Nature. But
the difficulties under which he laboured soon convinced him of the
necessity of those helps which only books can supply; and his re-
pugnance to systems, as repulsive as they are at the first view, gra-
dually gave place to more enlarged notions on the course to be
pursued by him who would not only attain to knowledge by the
readiest means, but who would impart that knowledge in the most
effective manner to others.
* Johnson’s Preface to Shakspeare.
3 B
VOL. IX.
cxc
LIFE OF WILSON.
As far as I can learn he had access but to two systems of Or-
nithology, that of Linneus, as translated by Dr. Turton, and the
‘‘General Synopsis” of Dr. Latham.* The arrangement of the
latter he adopted in his “ General Index” of Land Birds, appended
to the sixth volume ; and he intended to pursue the same system
for the Water Birds, at the conclusion of his work.
The nature of his plan prevented him from proceeding in re-
gular order, according to the system adopted, it being his intention
to publish as fast as the materials accumulated; and he being in
some measure compelled, by motives of economy, to apportion his
figures to the space they would occupy in the plates, he thereby
brings to our view birds not only of diflferent genera but of differ-
ent habits, associated in a manner not wholly unnatural, but abhor-
rent from the views of those sytematists who account every devia-
tion from method an inexcusable fault.
With the art of perspective, it would appear, he was imper-
fectly acquainted ; hence there are errors in his drawings which
the rigid critic cannot overlook. These errors occur most fre-
quently in the feet and the tails of his birds, the latter of which,
with the view of being characteristically displayed, are frequently
distorted in a manner which no expediency can justify. One can
hardly forbear smiling at the want of correspondence between the
figure of the Sharp-shinned Hawk, and the fence upon which it is
mounted, the former, instead of appearing of the size of nature, for
which the author intended it, absolutely assuming the bulk of an
elephant.
* The library of Wilson occupied but a small space. On casting my eyes, after his de-
cease, over the ten or a dozen volumes of which it was composed, I was grieved to find that
he had been the owner of only one work on Ornithology, and that was Bewick’s British Birds.
For the use of the first volume of Turton’s Linneus he was indebted to the friendship of Mr.
Thomas Say ; the Philadelphia Library supplied him with Latham.
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXCl
But, notwithstanding these defects, there is a spirit in some of
his drawings which is admirable. Having been taught drawing
from natural models, he of course became familiar with natural
attitudes : hence his superiority, in this respect, to all authors ex-
tant. Among his figures, as most worthy of notice, I would par-
ticularize the Shore Lark, Brown Creeper, House and Winter
Wrens, Mocking-bird, Cardinal Grosbeak, Cow Buntings, Mottled
Owl, Meadow Lark, Barn Swallows, Snipe and Partridge, Rail and
Woodcock, and the Ruflfed Grous.
The introduction of appropriate scenery into a work of this
kind can have no good effect, unless it be made to harmonize, both
as to design and execution, with the leading subjects; hence Wil-
son’s landscapes, in the eye of taste, must always be viewed as a
blemish, as he was not skilful in this branch of the art of delinea-
tion ; and, even if he had been dexterous, he was not authorized to
increase the expenditures of a work which, long before its termi-
nation, its publisher discovered to be inconveniently burdensome.
'I he principal objections which I have heard urged against
the Ornithology, relate to the colouring; but as the difficulties to
which its author was subjected, on this score, have been already
detailed, I will merely observe that he found them too great to be
surmounted. Hence a generous critic will not impute to him as a
fault, what, in truth, ought to be viewed in the light of a misfor-
tune.
In his specific definitions he is loose and unsystematic. He
does not appear to have been convinced of the necessity of pre-
cision on this head; his essential and natural characters arc not
discriminated; and in some instances he confounds generic and
specific characters, which the laws of methodical science do not
authorize.
There is a peculiarity in his orthography which it is proper
that I should take notice of, for the purpose of explaining his mo-
tive for an anomaly at once inelegant and injudicious. I have his
cxcu
LIFE OF WILSON.
own authority for stating, that he adopted this mode of spelling at
the particular instance of the late Joel Barlow, who vainly hoped
to give currency, in his heavy Epic, to an innovation, which great-
er names than his own had been unable to effect.
Some ingenious men,” says Johnson, have endeavoured to
deserve well of their country by writing honor and labor for honour
and labour, red for read in the preter-tense, sais for says, repete for
repeat, explane for explain, or declame for declaim. Of these it
may be said, that as they have done no good, they have done little
harm; both because they have innovated little, and because few
have followed them.”
The recommendation of the learned lexicographer above
cited ought to be laid to heart by all those whose “ vanity seeks
praise by petty reformation.” ‘"I hope I may be allowed,” says
he, “ to recommend to those, whose thoughts have been perhaps
employed too anxiously on verbal singularities, not to disturb,
upon narrow views, or for minute propriety, the orthography of
their fathers. There is in constancy and stability a general and
lasting advantage, which will always overbalance the slow improve-
ments of gradual correction.”
As it must be obvious that without books it would be impossi-
ble to avoid error in synonymes and nomenclature, so we find that
our author, in these respects, has rendered himself obnoxious to
reproach.
That he was not ambitious of the honour of forming new ge-
nera appears from the circumstance, that, although he found the
system of Latham needed reformation, yet he ventured to propose
but one genus, the Curvirostra, the characters of which are so ob-
vious that one is astonished that so learned an ornithologist as
Latham should have contented himself with arranging the species
appertaining to it with others, the conformation of whose bills are
so dissimilar. It may be necessary to state that the Crossbills had
been erected into a separate genus, under the denomination of
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxcm
Crucirosira^ by an author whose works Wilson had no knowledge
of; and I have reason to believe that even the generic appellation
of Curvirostra had been anticipated by a writer on the ornithology
of the northern parts of Europe. Brisson limited his genus Loxia
to the Crossbills, and this judicious restriction appears to be now
sanctioned by all naturalists of authority.
There is a species of learning, which is greatly affected by
puny minds, and for which our author entertained the most hearty
contempt: this is the names by which certain nations of Indians
designated natural objects. Hence we no where find his work dis-
figured by those “ uncouth and unmanageable words,” which some
writers have recorded with a solemnity which should seem to prove
a conviction of their importance; but which, in almost every in-
stance, are a reproach to their vanity and their ignorance. Can
any thing be more preposterous than for one to give a catalogue of
names in a language the grammatical construction of which has
never been ascertained, and with the idiom of which one is totally
unacquainted? Among literate nations it is a rule, which has re-
ceived the sanction of prescription, that when one would write
upon a tongue, it is indispensable that one should qualify one’s self
for the task by a careful investigation of its principles. But when
the language of barbarians becomes the subject of attention the
rule is reversed, and, provided a copious list of names be given, it
is not required of the collector that he should have explored the
sources whence they are derived : his learning is estimated by the
measure of his labour, and our applause is taxed in proportion to
his verbosity.
The style of Wilson appears to be well adapted to the sub-
jects upon which he wrote. It is seldom feeble, it is sometimes
vigorous, and it is generally neat. He appears to have “ under-
stood himself, and his readers always understand him.” That he
was capable of graceful writing, he has given us, in the preface to
his first volume, a remarkable instance, which is one of the hap-
VOL. IX. 3 C
CXCIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
piest and most appropriate compositions that our literature can
boast of.
In a work abounding with so many excellencies, it would not
be difficult to point out passages of merit, any one of which would
give the author a just claim to the title of a describe!* of no ordi-
nary powers.
We select the following description from the history of the
Wood Thrush : At whatever time the Wood Thrush may arrive,
he soon announces his presence in the woods. With the dawn of
the succeeding morning, mounting to the top of some tall tree, that
rises from a low thick-shaded part of the woods, he pipes his few,
but clear and musical, notes in a kind of ecstacy ; the prelude or
symphony to which strongly resembles the double-tongueing of a
German flute, and sometimes the tinkling of a small bell. The
whole song consists of five or six parts, the last note of each of
which is in such a tone as to leave the conclusion evidently sus-
pended ; the finale is finely managed, and with such charming
effect as to soothe and tranquillize the mind, and to seem sweeter
and mellower at each successive repetition. Rival songsters, of
the same species, challenge each other from different parts of the
wood, seeming to vie for softer tones, and more exquisite respon-
ses. During the burning heat of the day they are comparatively
mute; but in the evening the same melody is renewed, and con-
tinued long after sunset. Even in dark, wet and gloomy weather,
when scarce a single chirp is heard from any other bird, the clear
notes of the Wood Thrush thrill through the dropping woods,
from morning to night; and it may truly be said that the sadder
the day the sweeter is his song.”
Perhaps my admiration of this passage maybe dependant, in
some measure, upon the association of ideas, having been accus-
tomed to frequent the favourite haunts of this exquisite musician,
which are “ low thick-shaded hollows, through which a small brook
or rill meanders, overhung with alder bushes that are mantled
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxcv
with vines. But I can truly declare that I could never read it in
an audible voice, the intenseness of my feelings always overpower-
ing me.
He thus delightfully introduces his history of the Barn Swallow :
“ There are but few persons in the United States unacquainted
with this gay, innocent, and active little bird. Indeed the whole
tribe are so distinguished from the rest of small birds by their
sweeping rapidity of flight, their peculiar aerial evolutions of wing
over our fields and rivers, and through our very streets, from
morning to night, that the light of heaven itself, the sky, the trees,
or any other common objects of nature, are not better known than
the swallows. We welcome their first appearance with delight, as
the faithful harbingers and companions of flowery spring, and rud-
dy summer ; and when, after a long, frost-bound and boisterous
winter, we hear it announced that the “ Sivallows are come !” what a
train of charming ideas are associated with the simple tidings I”
The following remarks on the current doctrine of the hyber-
nation of Swallows are worthy of note. My object in introducing
them into this place is twofold ; to exemplify our author’s talent
for copious and equable composition, and to afford myself an op-
portunity of adding my feeble testimony to his on a subject which
one should suppose would have been long ago definitively ascer-
tained.
“ The wonderful activity displayed by these birds forms a
striking contrast to the slow habits of most other animals. It may
be fairly questioned whether among the whole feathered tribes,
which heaven has formed to adorn this part of creation, there be
any that, in the same space of time, pass over an equal extent of
surface with the Swallow. Let a person take his stand on a fine
summer evening, by a new-mown field, meadow or river shore,
for a short time, and among the numerous individuals of this tribe
that flit before him fix his eye on a particular one, and follow, for
a while, all its circuitous labyrinths — its extensive sweeps — its siul-
CXCVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
den, rapidly reiterated zigzag excursions, and then attempt, by the
powers of mathematics, to calculate the length of the various lines
it describes; alas! even his omnipotent fluxions would avail him
little here, and he would soon abandon the task in despair. Yet,
that some conception may be formed of this extent, let us suppose
that this little bird flies, in his usual way, at the rate of one mile
in a minute, which, from the many experiments that I have made,
I believe to be within the truth ; and that he is so engaged for ten
hours every day; and further, that this active life is extended to
ten years (many of our small birds being known to live much long-
er even in a state of domestication), the amount of all these, allow-
ing three hundred and sixty-five days to a year, would give us two
millions one hundred and ninety thousand miles : upwards of eigh-
ty-seven times the circumference of the globe ! Yet this winged
seraphy if I may so speak, who, in a few days, and at will, can pass
from the borders of the arctic regions to the torrid zone, is forced,
when winter approaches, to descend to the bottoms of lakes, rivers,
and millponds, to bury itself in the mud with eels and snapping
turtles ; or to creep ingloriously into a cavern, a rat hole, or a hol-
low tree, there to doze with snakes, toads, and other reptiles, until
the return of spring! Is not this true ye xvise men of Europe and
America, who have published so many credible narratives upon this
subject ? The Geese, the Ducks, the Catbird, and even the Wren,
which creeps about our outhouses in summer like a mouse, are all
acknowledged to be migratory, and to pass into southern regions
at the approach of winter; — the Swallow alone, on whom heaven
has conferred superior powers of wing, must sink into torpidity at
the bottom of our rivers, or doze all winter in the caverns of the
earth. I am myself something of a traveller, and foreign coun-
tries afford many novel sights : should I assert, that in some of my
peregrinations I had met with a nation of Indians, all of whom,
old and young, at the commencement of cold weather, descend to
the bottom of their lakes and rivers, and there remain until the
LIFE OF WILSON.
cxcvn
breaking up of frost; nay, should I affirm, that thousands of peo-
ple in the neighbourhood of this city, regularly undergo the same
semi-annual submersion — that I myself had fished up a whole fa-
mily of these from the bottom of the Schuylkill, where they had
lain torpid all winter, carried them home, and brought them all
comfortably to themselves again; — should I even publish this in
the learned pages of the Transactions of our Philosophical Socie-
ty,^ who would believe me ? Is then the organization of a Swallow
less delicate than that of a man ? Can a bird, whose vital functions
are destroyed by a short privation of pure air, and its usual food,
sustain, for six months, a situation where the most robust man
would perish in a few hours, or minutes. Away with such ab-
surdities! they are unworthy of a serious refutation. I should be
* Here there is a palpable allusion to a paper on the hybernation of Swallows, which was
published in the sixth volume of the Transactions of the American Philosophical Society. This
paper was written by one Frederick Antes, and was communicated to the Society by the late
Professor Barton. It is probable that Wilson had also read the “ Letter on the Retreat of
House-Swallows in winter, from the Honourable Samuel Dexter, Esq. to the Honourable
James Bowdoin, Esq. and that “ from the Reverend Mr. Packard to the Honourable Samuel
Dexter, Esq.,” both of them published in the Memoirs of the American Academy of Arts and
Sciences of Boston, vols. I and 2,
Such communications are not calculated to do honour to any learned institution ; and they
ought to be rejected with scorn and reprehension.
f Carlisle, in his Lecture on Muscular Motion, observes, that “ animals of the class Mam-
maliay which hybernate and become torpid in the winter, have at all times a power of subsisting
under a confined respiration, which would destroy other animals not having this peculiar habit.
In all the bybernating Mammalia there is a peculiar structure of the heart and its principal
veins.” Philosophical Transactions for 1805, p. 17.
“ If all birds, except Swallows,” says Reeve, “are able to survive the winter, and they
alone are so overcome by the cold as to be rendered torpid, the difierence must be found in their
anatomical structure, and in their habits of life.
“ Now, in the first place, it is certain that they have, in common with other birds, the three
great functions of respiration, circulation, and assimilation : the similarity of their organs, and
every circumstance in their mode of living, prove that they are subject to the same laws : they
have also a very high temperature ; and are peculiarly organized for rapid and long flight. The
size of their lungs, the lightness of their bones, and the buoyancy of their feathers, render it
absolutely impossible to sink them in water without a considerable weight ; and they die instant-
ly for want of air.” Reeve on Torpidity, p. 43.
3 D
VOL. IX.
CXCVIU
LIFE OF WILSON.
pleased to meet with a man who has been personally more conver-
sant with birds than myself, who has followed them in their wide
and devious routes — studied their various manners — mingled with
them, and marked their peculiarities more than I have done; yet
the miracle of a resuscitated Swallow, in the depth of winter, from
the bottom of a millpond, is, I confess, a phenomenon in orni-
thology that I have never met with.”
The subject of the supposed torpidity of swallow^s has employ-
ed many writers, but unfortunately too few of those whose practical
knowledge enabled them to speak with that certainty which should
always give authority to writings on natural history. Reasoning
a priori ought to have taught mankind a more rational opinion
than that which the advocates of hybeimation have unthinking-
ly promulgated. And is it not surprising that as experiments
are so easy to be instituted, they should have been so seldom re-
sorted to, in order to determine a problem which many may sup-
pose to be intricate, but which, in effect, is one of the simplest, or
most easy to be ascertained, of any in the whole animal kingdom?
It is a fact that all the experiments which have been made, on the
subject of the hybernation of birds, have failed to give countenance,
in the most remote degree, to this irrational doctrine.
From my personal experience, and from my earliest youth I
have been conversant with the habits of birds, I feel myself justi-
fied in asserting, that, in the whole class Jives, there has never
been an authenticated instance known of a single individual capa-
ble of entering into that peculiar state denominated torpidity. Be
it observed that the narratives of credulous travellers and superfi-
cial observers, and newspaper tales, on this subject, are of no au-
thority, and must be utterly rejected. And yet these are the only
sources whence naturalists have drawn their opinions on the ques-
tion of torpidity. It is to be regretted that the authority of Lin-
naeus himself should have given credit and currency to this opin-
ion, and the more so since his example of sanctioning vulgar nar-
LIFE OF WILSON.
CXCIX
ratives by his acquiescence, without examination, has been follow-
ed by the majority of writers on ornithology, particularly those of
Sweden, in which country, if we may place reliance on the Trans-
actions of the Academy of Upsal, the submersion of Swallows is
received as an acknowledged fact.
Linnaeus no where tells us that he had ever seen a torpid
Swallow; but what shall we say of the English translator of Kalm’s
Travels, the learned John Reinhold Forster, who positively asserts
that he himself had been an eye witness to the fact of Swallows
being fished up out of the lake of Lybshau, in Prussia, in the win-
ter, and being restored to animation! a circumstance as impossible,
if we are allowed to consider anatomical structure as having any
influence on animal existence, as that a human being could be re-
suscitated after such a submersion.*
^ I am unwilling to object falsehood to this accomplished traveller, and therefore must
conclude that, in trusting to his memory, after a considerable lapse of time, he must have given
that, which he had received of another, as the result of his own experience. Mental hallucina-
tions of this kind are not of rare occurrence.
That persons of the strictest veracity are frequently deceived by appearances, there can be
no doubt ; and therefore it becomes a source of regret when such individuals, in recording
their remarks upon the phenomena of nature, omit those considerations which, if observed,
could hardly fail to guard them from error. Had our illustrious countryman, Franklin, when
he thought he had succeeded in resuscitating a fly, after it had been, for several months, or per-
haps years, embalmed in a bottle of Madeira wine, but exercised that common sense, of which
he possessed so large a share, and bethought him to repeat the experiment, he would have soon
discovered, that when the vital juices of an animal become decomposed by an acid, and their
place supplied by a spirituous fluid, something more than the influence of solar heat will be re-
quisite to re-animate a fabric which has, in effect, lost that upon which existence mainly depends.
The writer of this sketch has made several experiments upon flies, with the view of ascer-
taining the possibility of their being resuscitated after having been drowned in Madeira wine;
but in every instance his experiments had a different result from Dr. Franklin’s. He submerged
them in the wine for different periods, viz. six months, eighteen hours, six hours, one hour, and
in the last instance they showed signs of life until ten minutes before they were removed for
the benefit of the air and sun. Of three flies used in the last experiment, only one was reani.
mated, but after a few convulsive struggles it expired.
Three flies were afterwards drowned in pure water, and after having been kept in that state
cc
LIFE OF WILSON.
Dr. Reeve, in treating of the migration of birds, makes the
following judicious observations: "^It is singular that this subject
should still admit of doubt, when it seems so easy to be decided ;
yet every month we see queries and answers about the migration
of Swallows ; and every year our curiosity is tempted to be amused
with marvellous histories of a party of these birds diving under
water in some remote quarter of America. No species of birds,
except the Swallow, the Cuckoo, and the Woodcock, have been
supposed to remain torpid during the winter months. And what
is the evidence in favour of so strange and monstrous a supposi-
tion ? Nothing but the most vague testimonies, and histories re-
pugnant to reason and experience.
“ Other birds are admitted to migrate, and why should Swal-
lows be exempt from the general law of their nature ? When food
fails in one quarter of the world, their instinct prompts them to
seek it in another. We know, in fact, that such is their natural
habit : we have the most unexceptionable proofs that Swallows do
migrate; they have been seen at sea on the rigging of ships ; and
Adanson, the celebrated naturalist, is said to have caught four
European Swallows fifty leagues from land, between the coast of
Goree and Senegal, in the month of October.
“ Spallanzani saw Swallows in October on the island of Lipa-
ri, and he was told that when a warm southerly breeze blows in
winter they are frequently seen skimming along the streets in the
city. He concludes that they do not pass into Africa at the ap-
for seventeen hours, they were exposed to the sun for several hours, but they gave no signs of
life.
Upon a re-perusal of Franklin’s “ Observations upon the Prevailing Doctrines of Life and
Death,” in which the story of the flies is inserted, it appears obvious to me that the flies which
“ fell into the first glass that was filled,” were either accidentally thrown into it, or had been in
it unperceived, and on this supposition a recovery from suspended animation would have no-
thing in it which might be thought marvellous.
LIFE OF WILSON.
cci
proach of winter, but remain in the island, and issue from their re-
treat on warm days in quest of food.”*
The late professor Barton of Philadelphia, in a letter to the
editor of the Philosophical Magazine, thus comments upon the first
paragraph of the above remarks of Dr. Reeve. It appears some-
what surprising to me, that an author who had so long had the
subject of the torpidity of animals under his consideration, should
have hazarded the assertion contained in the preceding paragraph.
Dr. Reeve has certainly read of other birds besides the Swallow,
the Cuckoo, and the Woodcock, which are said to have been found
in a torpid state. And ought he not to have mentioned these
birds ?
“ In my Fragments of the Natural History of Pennsylvania,”
I have mentioned the common Humming-bird {Trochilus colubris)
as one of those American birds which do occasionally become
torpid.
In regard to the Swallows, I shall say but little at present.
I have, at this time, in the press, a memoir on the migration and
torpidity of these birds. I am confident that I shall be able to con-
vince every candid philosopher^ that great numbers of Swalloivs, of
different species, do occasionally pass into a state of torpidity, more or
less profound, not merely “in some remote quarter of America,”
but in the vicinity of our capital cities, where there are some men
of genuine observation and inquiry, and who are as little propense
to believe the marvellous in natural history, as any philosophers
elsewhere.
* An Essay on the Torpidity of Animals, by Henry Reeve, M. D. p. 40,
The author of this narrative, in the middle of December, 1820, was at Nice, on the Medi-
terranean; and had the gratification of beholding the common European Swallow (//zrundo
rustica) flying through the streets in considerable numbers. M. Risso, a well-known naturalist,
and a resident of the place, informed him that Swallows remained there all winter.
On the 20th February, 1818, being at the mouth of the river St. John, in East Florida,
I observed several Swallows of the species viridis of Wilson; and, on the 26th, a flight o£^
them, consisting of several hundreds, coming from the sea. They are the first which reach us
in the spring from the south. They commonly arrive in Pennsylvania in the early part of March.
3 E
VOL. IX.
cell
LIFE OF WILSON.
«I do not suppose that all the Swallows of North America
become torpid. It is my present opinion, and it was my opinion
when I published the “ Fragments” in 1799, that the Swallows, in
general, are migratory birds. But subsequent and very extensive
inquiries have convinced me, that the instances of torpid Swallows
are much more frequent than I formerly supposed they were ; and
that there are two species of the genus Hirundo^ which are peculi-
arly disposed to pass the brumal season in the cavities of rocks, in
the hollows of trees, and in other similar situations, where they
have often been found in a soporose state. These species are the
Hirundo riparia, or Sand Swallow ; and the H, pelasgia, which we
call Chimney Swallow. There is no fact in ornithology better esta-
blished, than THE FACT of the occasional torpidity of these two species
of Hirundo
It is not strange that the very extensive^^ inquiries of our
learned professor should have had a result so different from those
of Wilson, an ornithologist infinitely better qualified than himself
to investigate a question of this kind, by his zeal, his capacity, and
his experience. Who those men of genuine observation and inquiry
were, who resided in the vicinity of our capital cities, he did not
condescend to inform us ; if he had done so, Ave should be enabled
to determine whether or not they were capacitated to give an opi-
nion on a subject which requires qualifications of a peculiar kind.
At the time in which the professor wrote the above cited let-
ter, I know of but two naturalists in the United States Avhose opin-
ions ought to have any weight on the question before us, and these
were William Bartram and Alexander Wilson, both of Avhom have
* Tilloch’s Philosophical Magazine, vol. 35, p. 241.
“ Naturalists,” says Dr. Barton in another place, “ have not always been philosophers. The
slight and superficial manner in which they have examined many of the subjects of their science ;
the credulity which has accompanied them in their researches after truth ; and the precipitancy
with which they have decided upon many questions of importance ; are proofs of this assertion.”
Memoir concerning the Fascinating Faculty of Serpents,
LIFE OF WILSON. cciii
recorded their testimony, in the most positive manner, against tor-
pidity.
The Memoir on the Migration and Torpidity of Swallows,”
wherein Dr. Barton was confident he should be able to convince
every candid philosopher of the truth of his hypothesis concerning
these birds, never issued from the press, although so publickly an-
nounced. And who will venture to say that he did not, by this
suppression, manifest his discretion ? AVhen Wilson’s volume,
wherein the Swallows are given, appeared, it is probable that the
author of the “ Fragments” was made sensible that he had been
writing upon subjects of which he had little personal knowledge;
and therefore he wisely relinquished the task of instructing philoso-
phers, in these matters, to those more capable than himself of such
discussions.
Naturalists have not been sufficiently precise when they have
had occasion to speak of torpidity. They have employed the term
to express that torpor or numbness, which is induced by a sudden
change from heat to cold, such as is annually experienced in our
climate in the month of March, and which frequently affects S\val-
lows to so great a degree as to render them incapable of flight.
From the number of instances on record of these birds having
been found in this state, the presumption has been that they wei e
capable of passing into a state of torpidity, similar to that of the
Marmots, and other hybernating animals.
Smellie, though an advocate for migration, yet admits that
Swallows may become torpid. “That Swallows/’ says he, “in
the winter months, have sometimes, though very rarely, been found
in a torpid state, is unquestionably true. Mr. Collinson gives the
evidence of three gentlemen who were eye-witnesses to a number
of Sand-Martins being drawn out of a cliff on the Rhine, in the
month of March, 1762.”* One should suppose that Smellie was
* Philosophy of Natural History, chap. 20.
CCIV
LIFE OF WILSON.
too good a logician to infer that, because Swallows had been found
in the state described, they had remained in that state all winter.
A little more knowledge of the subject would have taught the three
gentlemen observers, that the poor Swallows had been driven to
their retreat by cold weather, which had surprised them in their
vernal migration; and that this state of numbness, falsely called
torpidity, if continued for a few days, would for ever have destroyed
them.
It is now time to resume the subject of Wilson’s Ornithology,
as the reader will, probably, consider that we have transgressed
the limits which our digression required.
Dr. Drake, in his observations upon the descriptive abilities of
the poet Bloomfield, thus expresses himself: “ Milton and Thom-
son have both introduced the flight of the Sky-Lark, the first with
his accustomed spirit and sublimity; but probably no poet has sur-
passed, either in fancy or expression, the following prose narrative
of Dr. Goldsmith. “ Nothing,” observes he, “ can be more pleas-
ing than to see the Lark warbling upon the wing ; raising its note
as it soars, until it seems lost in the immense heights above us ;
the note continuing, the bird itself unseen ; to see it then descend-
ing with a swell as it comes from the clouds, yet sinking by degrees
as it approaches its nest ; the spot where all its affections are cen-
tred ; the spot that has prompted all this joy.” This description
of the descent of the bird, and of the pleasures of its little nest, is
conceived in a strain of the most exquisite delicacy and feeling.”*
I am not disposed to dispute the beauty of the imagery of the
above, or the delicacy of its expression ; but I should wish the
reader to compare it with Wilson’s description of the Mocking-
bird, unquestionably the most accomplished songster of the feather-
ed race.
* Drake’s Literary Hours, No. 39, Edition of 1820.
LIFE OF WILSON.
ccv
The plumage of the Mocking-bird, though none of the home-
liest, has nothing gaudy or brilliant in it; and, had he nothing else
to recommend him, would scarcely entitle him to notice ; but his
figure is well-proportioned, and even handsome. The ease, ele-
gance and rapidity of his movements, the animation of his eye,*
and the intelligence he displays in listening, and laying up lessons
from almost every species of the feathered creation within his hear-
ing, are really surprising, and mark the peculiarity of his genius.
To these qualities we may add that of a voice full, strong, and
musical, and capable of almost every modulation, from the clear
mellow tones of the Wood Thrush, to the savage scream of the
Bald Eagle. In measure and accent he faithfully follows his origi-
nals. In force and sweetness of expression he greatly improves
upon them. In his native groves, mounted upon the top of a tall
bush or half-grown tree, in the dawn of dewy morning, while the
woods are already vocal with a multitude of warblers, his admira-
ble song rises pre-eminent over every competitor. The ear can
listen to his music alone, to which that of all the others seems a
mere accompaniment. Neither is this strain altogether imitative.
His own native notes, which are easily distinguishable by such as
are well acquainted with those of our various song birds, are bold
and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits. They consist of
short expressions of two, three, or at the most five or six syllables;
generally interspersed with imitations, and all of them uttered with
great emphasis and rapidity; and continued, with undiminished
ardour, for half an hour, or an hour, at a time. His expanded
wings and tail, glistening with white, and the buoyant gaiety of his
action, arresting the eye, as his song most irresistibly does the ear.
He sweeps round with enthusiastic ecstacy — he mounts and de-
scends as his song swells or dies away; and, as my friend Mr.
* The reader is referred to our author's figure of this bird, which is one of the most spirit-
ed drawings that the records of natural history can produce.
3 r
VOL. IX.
CCVl
LIFE OF WILSON.
Bartram has beautifully expressed it, “ He bounds aloft with the
“celerity of an arrow, as if to recover or recal his very soul, which
“expired in the last elevated strain.’’ While thus exerting him-
self, a bystander, destitute of sight, would suppose that the whole
feathered tribes had assembled together, on a trial of skill, each
striving to produce his utmost effect, so perfect are his imitations.
He many times deceives the sportsman, and sends him in search of
birds that perhaps are not within miles of him ; but whose notes
he exactly imitates. Even birds themselves are frequently imposed
on by this admirable mimick, and are decoyed by the fancied calls
of their mates ; or dive, with precipitation, into the depths of thick-
ets, at the scream of what they suppose to be the Sparrow Hawk.
“ The Mocking-bird loses little of the power and energy of his
song by confinement. In his domesticated state, when he com-
mences his career of song, it is impossible to stand by uninterested.
He whistles for the dog: Caesar starts up, wags his tail, and runs
to meet his master. He squeaks out like a hurt chicken, and the
hen hurries about with hanging wings, and bristled feathers, cluck-
ing to protect her injured brood. He runs over the quiverings
of the Canary, and the clear whistlings of the Virginia Nightingale
or Red-bird, with such superior execution and effect, that the mor-
tified songsters feel their own inferiority, and become altogether
silent ; while he seems to triumph in their defeat by redoubling his
exertions.
“ This excessive fondness for variety, however, in the opinion
of some, injures his song. His elevated imitations of the Brown
Thrush are frequently interrupted by the crowing of cocks ; and
the warblings of the Blue-bird, which he exquisitely manages, are
mingled with the screaming of Swallows, or the cackling of hens ;
amidst the simple melody of the Robin we are suddenly surprised
by the shrill reiterations of the Whippoorwill, while the notes of
the Kildeer, Blue Jay, Martin, Baltimore, and twenty others, suc-
ceed, with such imposing reality, that we look round for the origi-
LIFE OF WILSON.
ccvii
nals, and discover, with astonishment, that the sole performer in
this singular concert is the admirable bird now before us. During
this exhibition of his powers, he spreads his wings, expands his
tail, and throws himself around the cage in all the ecstasy of en-
thusiasm, seeming not only to sing, but to dance, keeping time to
the measure of his own music. Both in his native and domestica-
ted state, during the solemn stillness of night, as soon as the moon
rises in silent majesty, he begins his delightful solo; and serenades
us with a full display of his vocal powers, making the whole neigh-
bourhood ring with his inimitable medley.”
I will give but one example more of our author’s descriptive
powers, and that will be found in his history of the Bald Eagle.
As a specimen of nervous writing it is excellent ; in its imagery it
is unsurpassed ; and in the accuracy of its detail it transcends all
praise.
“ This distinguished bird, as he is the most beautiful of his
tribe in this part of the world, and the adopted emblem of our coun-
try, is entitled to particular notice. He has been long known to
naturalists, being common to both continents, and occasionally
met with from a very high northern latitude, to the borders of the
torrid zone, but chiefly in the vicinity of the sea, and along the
shores and cliff’s of our lakes and large rivers. Formed by nature
for braving the severest cold; feeding equally on the produce of
the sea, and of the land; possessing powers of flight capable of
outstripping even the tempests themselves ; unawed by any thing
but man ; and from the ethereal heights to which he soars, looking
abroad, at one glance, on an immeasurable expanse of forests,
fields, lakes and ocean, deep below him ; he appears indififerent to
the little localities of change of seasons ; as in a few minutes he
can pass from summer to winter, from the lower to the higher re-
gions of the atmosphere, the abode of eternal cold ; and thence
descend at will to the torrid or the arctic regions of the earth. He
is therefore found at all seasons in the countries which he inhabits;
CCVIU
LIFE OF WILSON.
but prefers such places as have been mentioned above, from the
great partiality he has for fish.
“In procuring these he displays, in a very singular manner,
the genius and energy of his character, which is fierce, contempla-
tive, daring and tyrannical : attributes not exerted but on particu-
lar occasions ; but when put forth, overpowering all opposition.
Elevated upon a high dead limb of some gigantic tree, that com-
mands a wide view of the neighbouring shore and ocean, he seems
calmly to contemplate the motions of the various feathered tribes
that pursue their busy avocations below ; the snow-white Gulls
slowly winnowing the air; the busy Tringae coui'sing along the
sands ; trains of Ducks streaming over the surface ; silent and
watchful Cranes, intent and wading; clamorous Crows, and all the
winged multitudes that subsist by the bounty of this vast liquid
magazine of nature. High over all these hovers one, whose action
instantly arrests all his attention. By his wide curvature of wing,
and sudden suspension in air, he knows him to be the Fish-Hawk,
settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at
the sight, and balancing himself, with half-opened wings, on the
branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from
heaven, descends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its
wings reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep, making the
surges foam around. At this moment the looks of the Eagle are
all ardour ; and levelling his neck for flight, he sees the Fish-Hawk
emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting into the air with
screams of exultation. These are the signal for our hero, who,
launching into the air, instantly gives chace, soon gains on the
Fish-Hawk, each exerts his utmost to mount above the other, dis-
playing in these rencontres the most elegant and sublime aerial
evolutions. The unincumbered Eagle rapidly advances, and is
just on the point of reaching his opponent, when with a sudden
scream, probably of despair and honest execration, the latter drops
his fish; the Eagle poising himself for a moment, as if to take a
LIFE OF WILSON.
CCIX
more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his
grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silent-
ly away to the woods.”
Perhaps there is no similar work extant which can so justly
lay claim to the merit of originality as Wilson’s Ornithology. In
books on natural history, in general, we rarely meet with much
that is new ; and it is not unusual to behold laboured performances,
which are undistinguished by any fact which might prove that
their authors are entitled to any other praise than that of diligent
compilers. But in the work before us we are presented with a
fund of information of so uncommon a kind, so various, and so
interesting, that we are at no loss to perceive that the whole is the
result of personal application, directed to the only legitimate source
of knowledge — Nature, not as she appears in the cabinet of the
collector, but as she reveals herself in all the grace and loveliness
of animated existence.
Independent of those pleasing descriptions, which will always
ensure the work a favourable reception, it has higher claims to our
regard by the philosophical view which it takes of those birds
which mankind had, with one consent, proscribed as noxious, but
which now we are induced to consider as auxiliaries in agriculture,
whose labours could not be dispensed with without detriment. A
vagrant chicken, now and then, may well be spared to the Hawk
or Owl who clears our fields of swarms of destructive mice ; the
Woodpecker, whose taste induces him to appropriate to himself
the first ripe apple or cherry, has well earned the delicacy by tlie
myriads of pestilential worms of which he has rid our orchards,
and whose ravages, if not counteracted, would soon deprive us of
all fruit ; if the Crow and the Black-bird be not too greedy, Ave
may surely spare them a part of what they have preserved to us,
since it is questionable, if their fondness for grubs or cut-worms
did not induce them to destroy these enemies to the maize, whether
3 G
VOL. IX.
ccx
LIFE OF WILSON.
or not a single stalk of this inestimable corn would be allowed to
greet the view of the American farmer.
The beauties of this work are so transcendent, that its faults,
which are, in truth, mere peccadillos, are hardly perceptible ; they
may be corrected by one of ordinary application, who needs not in-
voke to his aid either much learning or much intelligence, A book
superior in its typographical execution, and graphical illustrations, it
would be no difficult matter to produce, since the ingenuity of man
has advanced the fine arts to a state of perfection sufficient to gra-
tify the most fastidious choice; but who could rival it in those essen-
tials which distinguish it from all other similar undertakings, and
which constitute it one of the most valuable offerings to science
which taste and genius has ever produced ?
LIST
OF THE
®s" wiiri'i'®®
WITH THEIR GENERIC CHARACTERS,
ACCORDING TO THE ARRANGEMENT OF TEMMINCK.*
•»* Those printed in italics are new species, not heretofore figured or described.
ORDER GRALLATORES.
Legs more or less naked above the knee, formed for wading ;
toes in some divided, in others more or less connected by a mem-
brane.
FIRST SECTION,
THREE-TOED.
GENUS CALIDRIS.
VOL. PAGE
Bill of a middling length, slender, straight, flexible,
compressed at its base, depressed at the point ; nasal fur-
row extended towards the point; nostrils linear; feet of
a middling length, slender.
Sanderling, (C. arenarid) - - - - - vii 72
Ditto in its summer dress - - - - vii 135
* In the first edition of this volume, its author, in conformity with the plan of Wilson,
adopted the arrangement of Latham, it being the best with which he was acquainted. But since
the appearance of the second edition of the Manuel d^Omithologie of Temminck, the superiority
of the arrangement of this naturalist, combined with its happy exemplification, has become so
manifest, that a due regard to the promotion of ornithological science, has induced the author to
adopt a system, which should seem to unite greater advantages than any which has yet been
promulgated.
ccxu
GENERAL INDEX.
VOL. PAGE
GENUS HIMANTOPUS.
Bill long, slender, cylindrical, compressed at the
point, channelled for half its length ; nostrils oblong ;
feet very long, greatly flexible and compressed, the mid-
dle and exterior toes united by a large membrane, inner
toe slightly connected,
American Stilt, {H. Mexicantis) . - - vii 52
GENUS HiEMATOPUS.
Bill pretty long, strong, straight, greatly narrowed
at the base and compressed at the point ; feet of a mid-
dling length, strong, the middle and exterior toes united,
as far as the first articulation, by a thick membrane, in-
ner toe slightly connected ; all the toes with a rough
border; soles of the feet furnished with a thick, wai'ty
skin.
Pied Oyster-catcher, {H, ostralegus) - - - viii 15
GENUS CHARADKIUS.
Bill shorter than the head, straight, compressed ;
feet of a middling length, slender, the outer and middle
toes connected by a small membrane.
Kildeer Plover, (C. vociferiis) - - - - vii 77
Piping P, (C. melodus) - - - - - v 30
Ring P. (C. hiaticuld) - - . - . vii 69
Wihorts P, (C. Wilsonius) ----- ix 242
GENERAL INDEX.
SECOND SECTION.
FOUR-TOED.
GENUS VANELLUS.
Bill short, straight, compressed, both mandibles
inflated at the point, base of the upper mandible widened
by the prolongation of the nasal furrow ; feet of a mid-
dling length, the outer and middle toes connected by a
membrane, hind toe very short and slender, and raised
from the ground.
Black-bellied Plover, (F, Helveticus)
Young of ditto ------
GENUS STREPSILAS.
Bill of a middling length, hard at the point, strong,
straight, oblong-conic ; nostrils lateral, pervious, partly
closed by a membrane ; feet of a middling length, hind
toe articulated to the tarsus, all the toes edged with a
thick warty membrane.
Turn-stone, (S, hiterpres) - . . . .
GENUS GRUS.
Bill short, strong, compressed, sharp-pointed, late-
ral base of the upper mandible deeply grooved ; nostrils
pervious, and placed in the centre of the groove; base
of the bill, crown, and cheeks, more or less naked ; feet
long, strong, exterior and middle toes united by a mem-
brane, inner toe divided, hind toe placed high on the
3 H
ccxiii
VOL. PACK
vii 42
vii 75
vii 32
VOL. IX.
CCXIV
GENERAL INDEX.
tarsus, and raised from the ground ; a large portion of
the libia naked.
Hooping Crane, (G. Americana) - . - . yiii 20
GENUS ARDEA.
Bill long, strong, straight, compressed, sharp-point-
ed, upper mandible slightly channelled; nostrils linear;
orbits and lores naked ; feet long, outer and middle toes
united by a membrane as far as the first joint, the hind
toe placed on a level with the rest ; claw of the middle
toe pectinated.
Herons.
Blue Heron, {A. carided)
vii
122
Demi-Egret H. {A. leiicogaster)
viii
13
Great Egret H. {A. egrettd)
vii
111
Great H. {A. herodias)
viii
28
Little White H. (A, CaroUnensis)
vii
125
Bitterns.
American Bittern, (.5. minor)
viii
35
Green Bittern, {A, virescens)
vii
102
Least Bittern, {A, exilis)
viii
37
Night Heron, {A. nycticorax) -
vii
106
Yellow-crowned H. {A, violaceo)
viii
26
GENUS PHCENICOPTERUS.
Bill large, strong, toothed, bent as if broken, naked
at its base, lower mandible wider than the
upper ; nos
GENERAL INDEX.
ccxv
VOL.
trils linear ; feet very long and slender, palmate, the
webs deeply indented, hind toe small, and raised from
the ground.
Red Flamingo, (P. ruber) ----- viii
PAGE
45
GENUS RECURVIROSTRA.
Bill very long, slender, flexible, depressed, re-
curved ; nostrils narrow, linear ; feet very long, greatly
flexible and compressed, semipalmate, hind toe very
small, and raised from the ground.
American Avoset, (R. Jlmericanct)
vii 132
GENUS PLATALEA.
Bill long, flattened and orbicular at the point ; nos-
trils small, situated on the surface of the bill ; head
naked ; feet long, strong, semipalmate, hind toe placed
on a level with the rest.
Roseate Spoonbill, (P. ajaja) - - - -
vii 129
GENUS TANTALUS.
Bill long, strong, bent downwards at the point, thick
at the base, edges of the mandibles sharp, and bent in-
wards ; nostrils small, situated near the base of the bill ;
head and jugular pouch naked ; feet very long, almost
semipalmated, tarsus as long again as the middle toe ;
hind toe long, and placed on a level with the rest.
Wood Ibis, (P. loculator) - - - -
viii 39
CCXVl
GENERAL INDEX.
VOL. PAGE
GENUS IBIS.
Bill long, slender, subarched, roundish, point ob-
tuse, upper mandible deeply furrowed ; nostrils near the
base, oblong, narrow ; face and jugular pouch naked ;
feet pretty long, slender, fore toes united by a web as far
the first joint, hind toe placed on a level with the rest.
Scarlet Ibis, (/. ruhrd) - - . - viii 41
White I. (/. alba) viii 43
GENUS NUMENIUS.
Bill long, slender, incurvated, compressed, furrowed
for three-fourths of its length, and terminated in a blunt
point; upper mandible overhanging the lower at the tip;
nostrils lateral, linear, situated in the furrow of the bill ;
feet pretty long, fore toes connected by a membrane as
far as the first joint, hind toe articulated upon the tarsus,
and touching the ground.
Long-billed Ciirlerv, (N. longirostris) - - viii 23
Short-billed C. (A*. Hiidsonicns) - - - vii 22
GENUS THING A.
Bill of a middling length, slender and flexible, com-
pressed at the base, depressed, soft and obtuse, at the
point; nostrils small and lateral ; feet slender, of a mid-
dling length, fore toes more or less connected by Avebs,
hind toe Aveak, articulated upon the tarsus, and, in some
species, raised from the ground.
Ash-coloured Sandpiper, (T*. cinerea)
Ifittle S. (T. pusilla)
vii 36
v 32
GENERAL INDEX. ccxvii
VOL. PAGE
Red-backed S. (T. Alpina) - - . . vii 25
Young of ditto, or Purre, ... vii 39
Red-breasted S. (T. rw/a) - - . . vii 47
Semipabnated S. (T. Semipalmata) - - vii 137
GENUS TOTANUS,^
Bill compressed, solid and sharp at the point, the
mandibles furrowed at their base^ nostrils lateral, linear,
placed in the basal furrow ; feet long, slender, middle
and outer toes united by a membrane.
Bartranibs Sandpiper, (T. Bartramius) - - vii 67
Solitary S. (T, glareolus) ... - vii 57
Spotted S. (T. maculai'ius) . - . . yii 64
Tell-tale Snipe, (T, melanoleiicos) - - vii 61
Willet, (Z*. semipabnatus) - - - - vii 27
Yellow-shanks Snipe, (T, flavipes) - - vii 59
GENUS LIMOSA.
Bill very long, slightly turned upwards, soft and
flexible, depressed towards the point, which is obtuse,
both mandibles furrowed their whole length; nostrils
pervious, lateral, placed in the furrow ; feet long, mid-
dle and outer toes connected, as far as the first articula-
tion, by a membrane, hind toe articulated to the tarsus,
and of a middling length.
Great Marbled Godwit, {L, fedoci) - - vii 30
* With the characters of this genus, as laid down by Temminck, I am not satisfied ; and
I find myself unable to rectify them, for the want of good specimens. There is also room to
doubt whether or not two or three of the species, which Temminck has classed under this genus,
ought to be retained in it.
3 I
VOL. IX,
CCXVUl
GENERAL INDEX.
VOL.
PAGE
GENUS SCOLOPAX.
Bill long, straight, compressed, slender, soft, eleva-
ted at the base, obtuse at the point, upper mandible
overhanging the lower at the tip; nostrils basal, lateral;
feet of a middling length, slender, toes generally divided,
hind toe resting upon the ground.
Woodcocks*
Tibia feathered as far as the knee; eyes placed high,
and far back in the head.
American Woodcock, {S* minor) - - - vi 40
Snipes.
Lower part of the tibia naked.
Common American Snipe^^ (S. delicata) - - vi 18
Red-breasted S. (S. grisea) . - - . yii 49
* Although Wilson calls this bird (which is known in Pennsylvania by the name of En-
glish Snipe) gallinago, yet, from the circumstance of its having two feathers more in the tail
than the true galltnago has, he expresses a doubt as to the identity of the species. The Prince
of Musignano informed me, that, after a careful comparison of our Snipe with specimens of the
European gallmago and major ^ he was convinced it is different from either ; but I have since
learnt that he has relinquished his intention of naming it, under the persuasion that the Scolo-
pax recently discovered in Germany, and recorded in the “ Bulletin des Sciences’’ for February,
1824, under the name of Brehmiiy was merely an accidental wanderer of our American species.
As upon a perusal of the notice above mentioned, I can by no means agree with the re-
spectable critic on the Nomenclature of Wilson’s Ornithology,” I shall here take the liberty
of classing the Common Snipe of the United States under the appellation of delicata.
GENERAL INDEX.
ccxix
VOL. PACE
GENUS RALLUS.
Bill longer than the head, slender, slightly incurved,
compressed at the base, cylindric at the point, sharp-point-
ed ; nostrils lateral, pervious, partly closed by a mem-
brane ; feet long, strong, fore toes cleft, hind toe articu-
lated upon the tarsus ; wings and tail short ; body com-
pressed.
Clapper Rail, (S. Crepitans) - - - vii 117
Virginian R* {R. Virginianus) - - vii 114
GENUS GALLINULA.
Bill shorter than the head, compressed, convex, the
mandibles of nearly equal length ; nostrils oblong and
pervious, placed in the middle of the bill, and partly co-
vered by a membrane ; feet long, vigorous, toes long
and cleft, hind toe placed on a level with the rest; wings
concave and short ; tail short ; body compressed.
FIRST SECTION.
Base of the upper mandible running up between the
plumage of the front.
Soree Gallinule, or Common Rail, (G. Carolina) vi 27
SECOND SECTION.
Base of the upper mandible spreading out on the
forehead in a naked membrane.
Martinico Gallinule, (G. Martinica) - - ix 230
ccxx
GENERAL INDEX*
VOL. PAGE
ORDER PINNATIPEDES.
Feet of a middling length, tarsus slender and com-
pressed, three toes before and one behind, the front toes
furnished with lobes or scalloped membranes, the hind
toe articulated interiorly on the tarsus.
GENUS FULICA.
Bill thick, convex, strong, shorter than the head,
compressed, its base rising far up the forehead, and
spreading out into a gibbous membranaceous shield ; nos-
trils pervious, placed in the centre of the bill ; body
compressed; wings and tail short.
Cinereous Coot, {F, Americana) - - ix 225
GENUS PHALAROPUS.
Bill straight ; under tail coverts extend to the tip
of the tail ; body like that of the Sandpiper.
Brown Phalarope, (P. lobatus) - - ix 232
Gray P. (P. Fulicaiiiis) . - - ix 237
ORDER PALMIPEDES.
Feet generally short, webbed ; in some genera only
the three forward toes are connected, in others, all four
of the toes ; the hind toe is wanting in some genera.
GENERAL INDEX.
ccxxi
• VOL. PAGE
GENUS RHYNCHOPS.
Bill long, compressed like the blade of a knife, low-
er mandible truncate, and much longer than the upper ;
nostrils large, oblong, pervious, marginal, placed near
the base ; feet weak, webs deeply scalloped, hind toe ar-
ticulated on the tarsus, and very small ; wings very long.
Black Skimmer or Shearwater, (i?. nigra) - vii 89
GENUS STERNA.
Bill subulate, straightish, compressed, strong, man-
dibles of equal length ; nostrils oblong, pervious ; feet
slender, tarsus short, webs scalloped ; hind toe free and
weak ; wings long, acuminated.
Great Tern, (S. hirundo) - - - vii 80
Lesser T. (S', niinuta) ... vii 84
Marsh T, (S. aranea) - . . . yiii 158
Short-tailed T, (S. plumbea) - - vii 87
Sooty T. {S. fuliginosa) - - - viii 161
GENUS LARUS.
Bill of middling length, strong, hard, compressed,
sharp-edged, bent downwards at the tip, lower mandible
gibbous below the point j nostrils lateral, pervious, in
the middle of the bill ; tarsus pretty long ; hind toe free,
short, articulated high up on the tarsus.
Laughing Gull, (L. atricilla) - - ix 257
3 I*
VOL. IX.
ccxxii GENER-AL INDEX.
VOL.
GENUS PROCELLARIA.
Bill hard, sharp-edged, depressed and dilated at the
base, compressed and hooked at the point ; nostrils pro-
minent, for the most part contained in one tube, in some
species distinct and separate ; feet of a middling length,
slender, tarsus compressed, the three anterior toes long,
back toe a mere spur ; wings long and strong.
American Stormy Petrel, (P. Wikonii) - vii
GENUS ANAS.
Bill of middling length, convex, covered with a
thin skin, generally depi’essed at the point, which is ob-
tuse and nailed, the edges of both mandibles divided in-
to lamellae or teeth ; nostrils placed near the summit of
the bill and suboval ; tibia feathered as far as the knees ;
feet short, the three forward toes entirely palmated, the
hind toe solitary.
FIRST SECTION.
Geese.
Bill shorter than the head, the lamellae of its edges
conic ; tail of middling length.
Brant, {Jl. bernicla) - - - . viii
Canada Goose, {Jl. Canadensis) - - - viii
Snow G. (Jl. hyperborea) - - - viii
Young female of ditto - - - viii
PAGE
94
145
53
79
94
GENERAL INDEX.
"^ccxxi
VOL. PAGE
SECOND SECTIONr
Ducks,
Bill in most species greatly depressed and wide to-
wards the point, the lamellae of its edges long and flat.
American Tufted Duck, (A, rujitorques)
American Widgeon, {A, Americana)
Black Duck, {A, ohscurd)
Blue-winged Teal, (A, discors)
Buffel-headed Duck, Male and Female, {A, albeold)
Canvass-back D, (A, vallisneria)
Eider D. {J\Iale,) {A, mollissima)
Female of ditto . - - .
Gadwall, {A, strepera)
Golden-eye, {A, clangula)
Green- winged Teal, (A, creccd)
Harlequin Duck, {A, hisWionicd)
Long-tailed D. (JMale,) {A, glacialis)
Female of ditto - - . .
Mallard, {A, boschas)
Pied Duck, {A. Labradord)
Pintail D. {A, acuta)
Red-headed D. (A.ferina)
Ruddy D. (A, Jamaicensis)
Scaup D. (A, marild) - . . -
Scoter D. {A, nigra) . - . -
Shoveller, {A, clypeata) « - . -
Summer D, (A, sponsa)
Surf D. {A. perspicillatd)
Velvet D. (A,fusco)
viii 61
viii 91
viii 155
viii 77
viii 51
viii 108
viii 132
viii 135
viii 130
viii 64
viii 106
viii 153
viii 98
viii 101
viii 121
viii 96
viii 75
viii 119
viii 138
viii 87
viii 149
viii 67
viii 102
viii 49
viii 151
GENERAL INDEX.
ccxxii*
VOL. PAGE
OENUS MERGES.
Bill slender, sub-cylindrical, toothed, hooked at the
point, both mandibles furnished with a strong nail ; nos-
trils small, lateral, elliptical, pervious, placed near the
middle of the bill ; throat toothed ; legs placed pretty
far back ; feet greatly compressed, fore toes entirely
palmated, hind toe lobed.
Goosander, {M. mergamer)
viii
70
Female of ditto
viii
74
Hooded Merganser, {J\I, cucullatus)
viii
82
Red-breasted M. ( J\L serrator )
viii
84
Smew or White Nun, ( M» albellus )
viii
136
GENUS PLOTUS.
Bill long, straight, very sharp-pointed, jagged or
serrated ; nostrils a slit near the base, concealed by a
membrane ; face and jugular pouch naked ; legs placed
far back ; feet very short, strong, four-toed, all connected
by a broad membrane, middle claw pectinated; tongue
very small ; tail long and fan-shaped.
Darter or Snake-bird, ( P. anhinga ) - - ix 244
Female of ditto - - - ix 249
GENUS COLYMBUS.
Bill strong, straight, sharp-pointed, compressed ;
nostrils basal, lateral, oblong ; throat toothed ; legs
placed far back, extended horizontally ; feet strong,
tarsus greatly compressed, the three forward toes very
GENERAL INDEX.
long, and entirely palmated, the hind toe short, and fur-
nished with a small membrane ; tail short and rounded.
Great Northern Diver or Loon, (C. glacialis)
GENUS UKIA.
Bill strong, pointed, compressed, upper mandible
slightly bent downward at the point; nostrils basal, late-
ral, concave, partly closed by a membrane, which is co-
vered with feathers ; legs short, placed far back ; feet
three-toed, tarsus slender.
Little Guillemot, (U- alle)
ccxxiii
VOL. PAGE
ix 251
ix 260
VOL. IX.
sK
INDEX
Bald Eagle
. Falco leucocephalus
PAGE
297
Black Vulture
. Vultur jota
. 269
Brown Phalarope
. Phalaropus lobatus
232
Cinereous Coot
. Fulica Americana
. 225
Darter or Snake-bird
• Plotus anhinga
244
Female of ditto .
• • « • •
. 249
Gray Phalarope
. Phalaropus Fulicarius
237
Great-footed Hawk
Falco peregrinus
. 286
Great Northern Diver
. Colymbus glacialis
. 251
Laughing Gull
. Larus atricilla
257
Lesser Red-poll
. Fringilla linaria
. 294
Little Guillemot
Uria alle
260
Martinico Gallinule
Gallinula Martinica
. 230
Raven
. Corvus corax
279
Turkey-buzzard
. Vultur aura
. 262
Wilson’s Plover
Charadrius Wilsonius
. 242
AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY.
CINEREOUS COOT.*
FULIC^ AMERICANS.
[Plate LXXIII Fig. 1.]
Fulica Americana^ Gmel. Syst. 1, p. 704,23. — Lath. Ind. Orn. p, 779, 5. Cinereous Coot,
Gen. Syn. 3, p. 279. — Peale’s Museum, No, 4322.
THIS species makes its appearance in Pennsylvania about
the first of October. Among the muddy flats and islands of the
river Delaware, which are periodically overflowed, and which are
overgrown with the reed or wild oats, and rushes, the Cools are
found. They are not numerous, and are seldom seen, except their
places of resort be covered with water : in that case they are gene-
rally found sitting on the fallen reed, waiting for the ebbing of the
tide, which will enable them to feed. Their food consists of vari-
ous aquatic plants, seeds, insects, and, it is said, small fish. The
Coot has an aversion to take wing, and can seldom be sprung in
its retreat at low water ; for although it walks rather awkwardly,
yet it contrives to skulk through the grass and reeds witli great
speed, the compressed form of its body, like that of the I'ail genus,
being well adapted to the purpose. It swims remarkably well,
and, when wounded, will dive like a duck. When closely pursued
in the water, it generally takes to the shore, rising with apparent
reluctance like a wounded duck, and flattering along the surface
VOL. IX.
^ Named in the plate Common Coot.
3 L
226
COOT.
with its feet pattering on the water.* It is known in Pennsylvania
by the name of the Mud-hen.
I have never yet discovered that this species breeds with us;
though it is highly probable that some few may occupy the marshes
of the interior, in the vicinity of the ponds and lakes, for this pur-
pose : those retired situations being well adapted to the hatching
and rearing of their young. In the southern states, particularly
South Carolina, they are well known ; but the Floridas appear to
be their principal rendezvous for the business of incubation. “ The
Coot,” says William Bartram, “is a native of North America, from
Pennsylvania to Florida. They inhabit large rivers, fresh water
inlets or bays, lagoons, &c, where they swim and feed amongst the
reeds and grass of the shores; particularly in the river St. Juan,
in East Florida, where they are found in immense flocks. They
are loquacious and noisy, talking to one another night and day ;
are constantly on the water, the broad lobated membranes on their
toes enabling them to swim and dive like ducks.”*}-
I observed this species to be numerous, during the winter, in
the fresh water ponds, situated in the vicinity of the river St. Juan
or St. John, in East Florida; but I did not not see them in the
river. The food which they obtain in these places must be very
abundant and nutritious, as the individuals which I shot were ex-
cessively fat. One male specimen weighed twenty-four ounces,
avoirdupois. They associate with the Common Gallinule; {Galli-
nula chloropus) but there is not, perhaps, one of the latter for twen-
ty of the former.
The Cinereous Coot is sixteen inches in length, and twenty-
eight in extent; bill one and a half inch long, white, the upper
mandible slightly notched near the tip, and marked across with a
* In Carolina they are called Flusterersy from tlie noise they make in flying along the sur-
face of the water. A voyage to Carolina by John Lawson, p. 149.
t Letter from Mr. Bartram to the author.
COOT.
227
band of chesnut, the lower mandible marked on each side with
a squarish spot of the like colour, edged on the lower part with
bright yellow or gamboge, thence to the tip pale horn colour ;
membrane of the forehead, dark chesnut brown ; irides cornelian
red ; beneath the eyes, in most specimens, a whitish spot ; the
head and neck are of a deep shining black, resembling satin ;
back and scapulars dirty greenish olive ; shoulders, breast, and
wing-coverts, slate blue ; the under parts are hoary; vent black;
beneath the tail pure white ; primaries and secondaries slate, the
former tipped with black, the latter with white, which does not
appear when the wing is closed; outer edges of the wings white;
legs and toes yellowish green, the scalloped membrane of the lat-
ter lead colour ; middle toe, including the claw, three inches and
three quarters long.
The bird from which the foregoing description was taken,
was shot in the Delaware, below Philadelphia, the 29th of October,
1813. It was an old male, an uncommonly fine specimen, and
weighed twenty-three ounces avoirdupois. It is deposited in Peale’s
Museum.
The young birds differ somewhat in their plumage, that of
the head and neck being of a brownish black ; that of the breast
and shoulders pale ash ; the throat gray or mottled ; the bill
bluish white ; and the membrane on the forehead considerably
smaller.
The young females very much resemble the young males; all
the difference which I have been enabled to perceive is as follows:
breast and shoulders cinereous; markings on the bill less; upper
parts of the head, in some specimens, mottled ; and being less in
size.
The lower parts of these birds are clothed with a thick down,
and, particularly between the thighs, covered with close fine fea-
thers. The thighs are placed far behind, are fleshy, strong, and
bare above the knees.
228
COOT.
The gizzard resembles a hen’s, and is remarkably large and
muscular. That of the bird which has been described was filled
with sand, gravel, shells, and the remains of aquatic plants.
Buffon describes the mode of shooting Coots in France, par-
ticularly in Lorraine, on the great pools of Tiaucourt and of Indre ;
hence we are led to suppose that they are esteemed as an article
of food. But with us who are enabled, by the abundance and
variety of game, to indulge in greater luxuries in that season when
our Coots visit us, they are considered as of no account, and are
seldom eaten.
The European ornithologists represent the membrane on the
forehead of the Fulica atra as white, except in the breeding season,
when it is said to change its colour to pale red. In every speci-
men of the Cinereous Coot which I have seen, except one, the
membrane of the forehead was of a dark chesnut brown colour.
The one alluded to was a fine adult male, shot in the Delaware, at
Philadelphia, on the 11th of May; the membrane was of a pure
white; no white marking beneath the eye ; legs and feet of a bright
grass green.
In Wilson’s figure of the Coot, accompanying this volume,
there are some slight errors : the auriculars are designated, which
should not have been done, as they are not distinguishable from the
rest of the plumage of the head and neck, which is all of a fine
satiny texture ; and the outline of the bill is not correct.
Latham states that the Common European Coot, F. alra, is
“ met with in Jamaica, Carolina, and other parts of North Ameri-
ca.” This I presume is a mistake, as I have never seen but one
species of Coot in the United States. Brown, in speaking of the
birds of Jamaica, mentions a Coot, which, in all probability, is the
same as ours. The Coot mentioned by Sloane, is tbe Common
Gallinule. So is also that spoken of in the Natural History of Bar-
badoes, by Hughes, p. 71.
COOT.
229
In Lewis and Clark’s History of their expedition, mention is
made of a bird which is common on the Columbia ; is said to be
very noisy, to have a sharp, shrill whistle, and to associate in large
flocks; it is called the Black DiickJ*^ This is doubtless a species
of Coot, but whether or not difierent from ours cannot be ascer-
tained. How much is it to be regretted, that in an expedition of
discovery, planned and fitted out by an enlightened government,
furnished with every means for safety, subsistence and research,
not one naturalist, not one draftsman, should have been sent, to
observe and perpetuate the infinite variety of natural productions,
many of which are entirely unknown to the community of sci-
ence, which that extensive tour must have revealed !
The Coot leaves us in November, for the southward.
The foregoing was prepared for the press, when the author,
in one of his shooting excursions on the Delaware, had the good
fortune to kill a full plumaged female Coot. This was on the
twentieth of April. It was swimming at the edge of a cripple or
thicket of alder bushes, busily engaged in picking something from
the surface of the water, and while thus employed it turned fre-
quently. The membrane on its forehead was very small, and
edged on the fore part with gamboge. Its eggs were of the size
of partridge shot. And on the thirteenth of May another fine fe-
male specimen was presented to him which agreed with the above,
with the exception of the membrane on the forehead being nearly
as large and prominent as that of the male. From the circum-
stance of the eggs of all these birds being very small, it is probable
that the Coots do not breed until July.
* History of the Expedition, vol. ii, p. 194. Under date of November 30th, 1805, they
say: “ The hunters brought in a few black ducks of a species common in the United States,
living in large flocks, and feeding on grass : they are distinguished by a sharf} white beak^ toes
separated^ and by having no craw^
3 M
VOL. IX.
230
MARTINICO GALLINULE.^
GALLINULJl M^RTINICJl.
[Plate LXXIIL— Fig 2.]
Gallinula Martinican Lath. Ind» Orn, p, 769, 9. Gen. Syn. 3, p. 255, 7, pL 88. — Fulica
Martinicay Lin. SysU cd* 12, 1, />. 259, 7. — Fulica MartinicensiSy Gmel. Syst. p. 700,
petite Poule-SultanCy Baiss. Om. 5, p. 526, pL 42, Jig. 2. — Burr. Ois. 8,
p, 206. — La Favourite de Cayenncy PL enl. No. 897, young? — Peale’s Museuniy
No. 4294.
THIS splendid bird is a native of the southern parts of the
continent of North America. I have never learnt that it migrates
as far north as Virginia, though it is probable that it may be occa-
sionally seen in that state. It makes its appearance, in the Sea
islands of Georgia, in the latter part of April ; and after spending
the summer, it departs, with its young, in the autumn. The
marshes of Mexico appear to be its winter residence. It frequents
the rice fields, and fresh water ponds, in company with the Common
Gallinule 5 but the latter, being of a moi’e hardy nature, remains
all winter, both in Georgia and Florida.
During its migration this bird is frequently driven to sea ; and
I have known two or three instances of its having sought refuge on
board of vessels. On the 24th May, 1824, a brig arrived at Phila-
delphia, from Neworleans, bringing a fine living specimen, which
had flown on board of her in the Gulf-stream. This bird is now
alive in the Philadelphia Museum.
In the month of August, 1818, a storm drove another individ-
ual on board of a vessel, in her passage from Savannah to Phila-
delphia. This also lived for some time in Peale’s Museum,
* Named in the plate Purple Gallinule.
MARTINICO GALLINULE.
231
The Martinico Gallinule is a vigorous and active bird. It
bites hard, and is quite expert in the use of its feet. When it seizes
upon any substance with its toes, it requires a considerable effort
to disengage it. Its toes are long, and spread greatly. It runs
with swiftness ; and when walking it jerks its tail in the manner
of the Common Rail. Its manners and food are somewhat similar
to those of the far-famed Purple Gallinule, whose history is so beau-
tifully detailed in the works of Buffon.
In its native haunts it is vigilant and shy ; and it is not easy
to spring it, without the assistance of a dog.
The specimen from which our drawing was taken came from
the state of Georgia, and is deposited in the Philadelphia Museum.
It is reduced, as well as the rest of the figures in the same plate,
to one half of the size of life.
Length from the tip of the bill to the end of the tail fourteen
inches ; bill an inch and a quarter long, vermilion, greenish yel-
low at the tip; irides pale cornelian; naked crown dull azure;
head, part of the neck, throat and breast, of a rich violet purple ;
back and scapulars olive green ; rump, tail and its coverts, brown-
ish green ; sides of the neck, and wings, ultramarine, the latter
tinged with green; shoulders of wings rich azure; inner webs of
the quills and tail feathers dusky brown ; belly and thighs dull pur-
plish black ; vent pure white ; tail rounded; legs and feet green-
ish yellow ; claws long, sharp, and of a pale flesh colour ; span of
the foot five inches.
232
BROWN PHALAROPE.*
PHJILAROPUS LOBATUS.
[Plate LXXIII.— Fig. 3.]
Tringa lohata^ Lin. SysU ed, 10, tom* 1, p* 148, 5. T. hyperhorea^ Id* ed, 12, tom. 1, p.
249, 9. — Tringa lobata, Gmel, Syst. 1, p. 674, 6. T. fusca, Id. p* 675, 33. T. hy~
perboreot Id. JVd. 9. — Phalaropus cinereust Briss. Orn. 6, p. 15. P. Juscust Id. p, 18.
— Le Phalarope cendre^ Buff. Ois. 8, p. 224. PL enl. 766. — Coot-footed Tringa, Ed-
wards, pL 46. Cock Cootfooted Tringa, Id. pi. 143. — Red Phalarope, Penn. Biiu
Zool. Ab, 219. Brcnvn Phalarope, Arct. Zool. Ab. 414. — Phalaropus hyperhoreus, Lath.
Ind, Orn. p* 775, 1. P. fuscus. Id, p. 776. 4. Red Phalarope, Gen. Syn. 3, p. 270,
1. Id. p. 272, var. A. Brown Phalarope, Id. p. 274, 4. — Red Phalarope, Montagu,
Orn* Die* Id. Sup. and Appendix.^Phalaropus hyperhoreus, Temm. Man. d^Om. p.
709. — Le Lobiphle a hausse-col, Cuv. R^g. An. 1. p. 495.
OF this species only one specimen was ever seen by Wilson,
and that was preserved in Trowbridge’s Museum, at Albany, in
the state of Newyork. On referring to Wilson’s Journal I found
an account of the bird, there called a Tringa^ written with a lead
pencil, but so scrawled and obscured that parts of the writing were
not legible. I wrote to Mr. Trowbridge, soliciting a particular
description, but no ahswer was returned. However, having had
the good fortune, since publishing the first edition, of examining a
fine recent specimen of this rare bird, I hope I shall be enabled to
fix the species by such characters as will prevent any ornithologist
in future from confounding it with the species which follows ; two
birds which, owing to a want of precision, were involved in almost
inextricable confusion, until Temminck applied himself to the task
of disembroiling them; and this ingenious naturalist has fully
* Named in the plate Gray Phalarope.
BROWN PHALAROPE.
233
proved that the seven species of authors constituted, in effect, only
two species.
Teinminck’s distinctive characters are drawn from the bill ;
and he has divided the genus into two sections, an ari’angement of
which the utility is not evident, seeing that each section contains
but one species ; unless we may consider the Barred Phalarope of
Latham constitutes a third, a point not yet ascertained, and not
easy to be settled, for the want of characters.
In my examination of these birds I have paid particular atten-
tion to the feet, which possess characters equally striking with
those of the bill : hence a union of all these will afford a facility
to the student, of which he will be fully sensible when he makes
them the subject of his investigation.
Our figure of this species betrays all the marks of haste ; it is
inaccurately drawn and imperfectly coloured ; notwithstanding, by
a diligent study of it, I have been enabled to ascertain that it is
the Coot-footed Tringa of Edwards, pi. 46, and 143, to which bird
Linnseus gave the specific denomination of lobata, as will be seen
in the synonymes at the head of this article. In the twelfth edi-
tion of the Systema Naturae, the Swedish naturalist, conceiving
that he might have been in error, omitted, in his description of the
lobata, the synonyme of Edwards’s Cock Coot-footed Tringa, No.
143, and recorded the latter bird under the name of hijperborea, a
specific appellation which Temminck and other ornithologists have
sanctioned, but which the laws of methodical nomenclature pro-
hibit us from adopting, as, beyond all question, hyperborea is only
a synonyme of lobata, which has the priority, and must stand.
Mr. Temminck differs from us in the opinion that the T, lo-
bata of Gmelin, vol. 1, p. 674, is the present species, and refers it
to that which follows. But if this respectable ornithologist will
take the trouble to look into the twelfth edition of Linnaeus, vol. I,
p. 249, No. 8, he will there find two false references, Edwards’s
No. 308, and Brisson’s No. 1, which gave rise to Gmelin’s confu-
VOL. IX. 3 ^
B, M ErmhAtiT,
WedtCke^te? Ho..
•ft ItSHtiM
Jfot to be on ‘•.<4 CoTulu
234
BROWN PHALAROPE.
sion of synonymes, and a consequent confusion in his description,
as the essential character in both authors being in nearly the same
words, {rosti'o subulato, apice injiexo^ we are at no loss to infer
that both descriptions have reference to the same bird ; and Ave are
certain that the lobata of the twelfth edition of the former is precise-
ly the same as that of the tenth edition, which cites for authority
Edwardses 46 and 143 as before mentioned.
I shall now give the short description of the bird figured in
the plate, as I find it in Wilson^s note book.
Bill black, slender, and one inch and three-eighths* in length;
lores, front, crown, hind-head, and thence to the back, very pale
ash, nearly white ; from the anterior angle of the eye a curving
stripe of black descends along the neck for an inch or more; thence
to the shoulders dark reddish brown, which also tinges the Avhite
on the side of the neck next to it ; under parts white ; above dark
olive ; wings and legs black. Size of the Turnstone.
The specimen from Avhich the following description Avas taken
Avas kindly communicated to me by my friend Mr. Titian R. Peale,
Avhile it Avas yet in a recent state, and before it was prepared for
the museum. It was this indiAudual which enabled me to ascertain
the species figured in our plate. It was shot in the neighbourhood
of Philadelphia, on the seventh of Ma)'-, 1818.
Bill narrow, slender, flexible, subulate, of equal width ; nos-
trils basal and linear; lobes of the toes thick, narrow, and but
slightly scalloped ; outer toe connected to the middle one as far as
the first joint, inner toe divided nearly to its base ; hind toe rest-
ing on the ground.
^ In the original the bill is said to be one inch and three quarters long, but that this is a
mistake, we have only to measure the bill of the figure, drawn of half the size of nature, to be
convinced of. Wilson always measured his bills from the tip to the angle of the mouth. Our
figure, by this admeasurement, indicates a bill of precisely the length of that of Peak’s speci-
men, which I have described in detail.
BROWN PHALAROPE.
235
Bill black, one inch and three eighths in length ; head above
of an ash gray; hind-head whitish, which colour extends a short
distance down the neck ; over the eyes a white stripe, below them
a white spot ; throat and lower parts white ; a line of black passes
through the eyes, spreads out towards the hind-head, and descends
along the neck ; lower part of the neck pale ferruginous ; back part
of the neck deep ferruginous, which descends on each side, and
mingles with the plumage of the back and scapulars, which arc of
a clove brown, the feathers tipt with whitish ; wings and tail dai-k
clove brown, some of the lesser coverts having a reddish tinge ;
the upper tail feathers tinged with red at their tips, the under fea-
thers marked with white on their inner webs ; irides dark brown ;
legs and feet dark plumbeous ; claws long, of a dark horn colour ;
hind toe, independent of the claw, five sixteenths of an inch long;
the tertials, when the wing is closed, extend to within three eighths
of an inch of the tip of the primaries ; weight an ounce and three
quartei's ; length nine inches and a half, breadth sixteen inches.
This was a female, her eggs very small.
In the grand chain of animated nature, the Phalaropes consti-
tute one of the links between the waders and the web-footed tribes,
having the form of the Sandpipers with some of the habits of the
gulls : the scalloped membranes on their toes enabling them to swim
with facility. They are clothed with a thick coat of feathers, beneath
which, as in the Ducks, lies a mass of down, to protect them from
the rigours of the northern climates, of which they are natives.
They do not appear to be fond of the neighbourhood of the ocean,
and are generally found in the interior, about the lakes, ponds,
and streams of fresh water, where they delight to linger, swimming
near the margin in search of seeds and insects.
They are no where numerous, are commonly seen in pairs,
and are so extremely tame and unsuspicious that one may approach
to within a few feet of them.
236
BROWN PHALAROPE.
The genus Lobipes, of the Baron Cuvier, is founded upon this
species ; and it must be confessed that its characters are sufficient-
ly distinct from those of the bird which follows to authorize such a
separation ; but unless some new species should be discovered, we
see no impropriety in associating the two birds already known,
taking care, however, to preserve a consistency in the generic cha-
racters, which Temminck, in his Manuel, has not sufficiently ob-
served.
In the appendix to Montagu’s Supplement to the Ornithologi-
cal Dictionary, we find the following remarks on this species, there
named fiilicaria: “ We have before mentioned that this bird had
been observed in the Orknies in considerable abundance in the
summer, and that no doubts were entertained of its breeding there,
although the nest had not been found. To Mr. Bullock, therefore,
we are indebted for the farther elucidation of the natural history of
this elegant little bird. In a letter to the author, this gentleman
says, “ I found the Red Phalarope common in the mai*shes of San-
da and Westra, in the breeding season, but which it leaves in the
autumn. This bird is so extremely lame that I killed nine without
moving out of the same spot, being not in the least alarmed at the
report of a gun. It lays four eggs of the shape of that of a snipe,
but much less, of an olive coloui-, blotched with dusky. It swims
with the greatest ease, and when on the water looks like a beautiful
miniature of a duck, carrying its head close to the back, in the
manner of a Teal.”
Mr. Bullock further observes, “that the plumage of the fe-
male is much lighter, and has less of the rufous than the other sex.”
237
GRAY PHALAROPE.*
PHJILJIROPUS FULICJIRIUS.
[Plate LXXIIL— Fig. 4.]
Tringa Fulisariay Lin. Syst. €d> 10, tom, p, 148, 6. — Tringa glacialist Gmel, Syst. l,/>.
675, 2. T. hyperborean var, 5, Id. p, 676. — Le PhalaropCy Bniss. Orn. 6, p. 12, Ab.
1. Phalaropus rujescensy Id, p, 20. — Phalaropus lobatusn Lath. Ind. Om. p. 776, 2,
P. glacialisy Id. No, 3. Red Phalarope, fern, Gen. Syn. 3, p. 271. Grey Phalarope,
Id. p. 272, 2. Plain PhalaropCy Id. p. 273, 3. — Grey PhalaropCy Penn. Brit. Zool.
No. 218. Arct. Zool. No. 412. Red Phalarope, Id. No. 413. Plain Phalaropey
Id. No. 415. Red Coot-footed Tringa^ Edwards, pi. 142. Grey Coot-footed Trin-
ga^ Id. Gleanings^ PL 308. — Le P/w/aro/je Buff. Ois. 8,/). 225. Le Phalarope
a festons dentelesn Id. p. 226. — Grey PhalaropCy Montagu, Orn. Die. and Appendix
to Sup. — Bewick, 2, p. 132. — Le Phalarope grisy Cuv. Reg. An, \yp. 492. Le Pha^
larope rougCy Id, ibid.-^Phalaropus plaiyrhinchusy Temm. Man, d'Orn. p. 712.—
Peale’s Museum, No. 4088.
BILL pretty stout and wide, slightly compressed at the tip,
depressed on the lower half, upper mandible carinate ; nostrils sub-
ovate, a short distance from the base; feet semipalmate, lobes of
the toes broad and greatly scalloped ; hind toe barely touching the
ground.
Bill reddish orange at the base, the remainder black, an inch
long; front and crown black, barred transversely with lines of
white ; throat, sides of the neck, and lower parts, white, thickly
and irregularly barred with curving dashes of reddish chocolate ;
upper parts of a deep cinereous blue, streaked with brownish yel-
low and black; the black scapulars broadly edged with brownish
yellow ; wings and rump dark cinereous ; greater wing-coverts
broadly tipped with white, forming a large band ; primaries nearly
black, and crossed with white below their coverts ; tail plain olive.
Named in the plate Red Phalarope.
3 O
VOL. IX.
2S8
GRAY PHALAROPE.
middle of its coverts black, their sides bright brownish yellow ;
vent white, those feathers immediately next to the tail reddish cho-
colate; legs black on the outside, yellowish within.
Length nine inches, breadth fifteen inches and a half ; length
of hind toe, independent of the claw, one eighth of an inch. Male ?
The inner toe is connected to the middle one, by a membrane,
as far as the first joint, the outer toe much further : hence the feet
may be properly termed semipalmate ; webs and lobes finely pecti-
nated. This conformation of the feet is pretty accurately exhibited
in Edwardses plate. No. 508.
The Gray Phalarope is a rare bird in Pennsylvania; and is
not often met with in any part of the United States. The individ-
ual from which our figure and description were taken, was shot in a
pond in the vicinity of Philadelphia, in the latter part of May,
1812, There were three in company. The person who shot it
had never seen one of the species before, and was struck with their
singular manners. He described them as swimming actively near
the margin of the pond, dipping in their bill very often, as if feed-
ing, and turning frequently. In consequence of our specimen be-
ing in a state of putridity when received, it was preserved with
considerable difficulty, and the sex could not be ascertained.
In the spring of the year 1816, my friend, Mr. Le Sueur, shot
in Boston Bay a young individual of this species: crown dark slate,
tinged with yellowish brown ; front, throat, line over the eye, belly
and vent, white ; shoulders, breast and sides, tawny or fawn colour ;
back dark slate, paler near the rump, the feathers edged with bright
yellow ochre ; wings pale cinereous, some of the lesser coverts edg-
ed with white, the greater coverts largely so, forming the bar; pri-
maries and tail black, the latter edged with yellowish brown, the
shafts of the former white. Bill and feet as in the first described.
On the 20th of March, 1818, I shot in the river St. John, in
East Florida, an immature female specimen: irides dark brown;
GRAY PHALAROPE.
236
around the base of the bill a slight marking of dark slate ; front and
crown white, mottled with pale ash ; at the anterior part of each eye
a black spot ; beneath the eyes dark slate, which extends over the
auriculars, the hind-head, and upper part of the neck ; upper parts
cinereous gray, with a few faint streaks of slate ; throat, breast,
whole lower parts, and under tail coverts, pure white ; flanks with
a few faint ferruginous stains ; wings slate brown, the coverts of the
secondaries, and a few of the primary coverts, largely tipped with
white, forming the bar as usual ; tail brown, edged with cinereous ;
legs and feet pale plumbeous, the webs, and part of the scalloped
membranes, yellowish. Bill and size as in the first specimen.
The tongue of this species is large, fleshy and obtuse.
A reference to the head of this article will show the variety of
names under which this bird has been described. What could in-
duce that respectable naturalist, M. Temminck, to give it a new
appellation, we are totally at a loss to conceive. That his name is
good, that it is even better than all the rest, we are willing to admit ;
but that he had no right to give it a new name we shall boldly main-
tain, not only on the score of expediency, but of justice. If the right
to change be once conceded, there is no calculating the extent of the
confusion in which the whole system of nomenclature will be in-
volved ; the study of methodical natural history is sufficiently labo-
rious, and whatever will have a tendency to diminish this labour
ouo'ht to meet the cordial support of all those who are interested in
the advancement of the natural sciences.
“The study of Natural history,” says the present learned pres-
ident of the Linnean society, “is, from the multitude of objects
with which it is conversant, necessarily so encumbered with names,
that students require every possible assistance to facilitate the at-
tainment of those names, and have a just right to complain of ev-
ery needless impediment. Nor is it allowable to alter such names,
even for the better. In our science the names established through-
240
GRAY PHALAROPE.
out the works of Linnaeus are become current coin, nor can they be
altered without great inconvenience.”*
I’hat there is a property in names as well as in things, will
not be disputed ; and there are few naturalists who would not feel
as sensibly a fraud committed on their nomenclature as on their
purse. The ardour with which the student pursues his researches,
and the solicitude which he manifests in promulgating his disco-
veries under appropriate appellations, are proofs that at least part
of his gratification is derived from the supposed distinction which
a name will confer upon him ; deprive him of this distinction, and
you inflict a wound upon his self-love which will not readily be
healed.
To enter into a train of reasoning to prove that he who first
describes and names a subject of natural history, agreeable to the
laws of systematic classification, is for ever entitled to his name,
and that it cannot be superseded without injustice, would be use-
less, because they are propositions which all naturalists deem self-
evident. Then how comes it, whilst we are so tenacious of our
own rights, we so often disregard those of others ?
I would now come to the point. It will be perceived that I
have ventured to restore the long neglected name of Fulicaria.
That I shall be supported in this restoration I have little doubt
when it shall have been made manifest that it was Linn^us him-
self who first named this species. A reference to the tenth edition
of the Systema Naturaef will show that the authority for Tringa
* An Introduction to Physiological and Systematical Botany, chap. 22.
f Of all the editions of the Systema Naturae, the tenth and the twelfth are the most valua-
ble ; the former being the first which contains the synonyma, and the latter being that which
received the finishing hand of its author. In the United States Linnseus is principally known
through two editors : — Gmelin, whose thirteenth edition of the Systema Naturas has involved
the whole science in almost inextricable confusion, and Turton, whose English translation of
Gmelin is a disgrace to science and letters. All writers on Zoology and Botany should possess
Linnaeus’s tenth and twelfth editions, they will be found to be of indispensable use in tracing
synonymes, and fixing nomenclature.
GRAY PHALAROPE.
241
Ftilicaria is Edwards’s Red Coot-footed Tringa, pi. 142, and that
alone, for it does not appear that Linnaeus had seen the bird. The
circumstance of the change of the generic appellation can in no
wise aflect the specific name ; the present improved state of the
science requires the former, justice demands that the latter should
be preserved. In this work I have preserved it ; and I flatter my-
self that this humble attempt to vindicate the rights of Linnaeus
will be approved by all those who love those sciences of which he
was so illustrious a promoter.
3 P
VOL. IX.
242
WILSON’S PLOVER.
CHJIEJIDRIUS WILSOJVIUS.
[Plate LXXIIL— Fig. 5.]
Peale’s Museum, JVo. 4159, male — 4il60, Jemale*
OF this neat and prettily marked species I can find no ac-
count, and have concluded that it has hitherto escaped the eye of
the naturalist. The bird, of which the figure in the plate is a cor-
rect resemblance, was shot the thirteenth of May, 1813, on the
shore of Cape-Island, Newjersey, by my ever-regretted friend ; and
I have honoured it with his name. It was a male, and was accom-
panied by another of the same sex, and a female, all of which were
fortunately obtained.
This bird very much resembles the Ring Plover, except in
the length and colour of the bill, its size, and in wanting the yel-
low eyelids. The males and females of this species differ in their
markings, but the Ring Plovers nearly agree. We conversed with
some sportsmen of Cape May, who asserted that they were acquaint-
ed with these birds, and that they sometimes made their appearance
in flocks of considerable numbers ; others had no knowledge of
them. That the species is rare we were well convinced, as we
had diligently explored the shore of a considerable part of Cape
May, in the vicinity of Great Egg-harbour, many times at different
seasons, and had never seen them before. How long they remain
on our coast, and where they winter, we are unable to say. Fronx
the circumstance of the oviduct of the female being greatly en-
larged, and containing an egg half grown, apparently within a
week of being ready for exclusion, we concluded that they breed
WILSON’S PLOVER.
243
there. Their favourite places of resort appear to be the dry sand
flats on the seashore. They utter an agreeable piping note.
This species is seven inches and three quarters in length, and
fifteen and a half in extent ; the bill is black, stout, and an inch
long, the upper mandible projecting considerably over the lower ;
front white, passing on each side to the middle of the eye above,
and bounded by a band of black of equal breadth ; lores black ;
eyelids white ; eye large and dark ; from the middle of the eye
backwards the stripe of white becomes duller, and extends for half
an inch ; the crown, hind-head and auriculars are drab olive ; the
chin, throat, and sides of the neck for an inch, pure white, passing
quite round the neck, and narrowing to a point behind ; the upper
breast below this is marked with a broad band of jet black ; the
rest of the lower parts pure white ; upper parts pale olive drab ;
along the edges of the auriculars and hind-head, the plumage,
where it joins the white, is stained with raw terra sienna ; all the
plumage is darkest in the centre ; the tertials are fully longer than
the primaries, the latter brownish black, the shafts and edges of
some of the middle ones white ; secondaries, and greater coverts,
slightly tipped with white; the legs are of a pale flesh colour;
toes bordered with a narrow edge ; claws and ends of the toes
black; the tail is even, a very little longer than the wings, and of
a blackish olive colour, with the exception of the two exterior fea-
thers which are whitish, but generally only the two middle ones
are seen.
The female diflers in having no black on the forehead, lores,
or breast, these parts being pale olive.
244
DARTER OR SNAKE-BIRD.^
PLOTUS JlNHINGJl.
[Plate LXXIV.— Fig 1.— Male.]
Plotus anhingci, Lin. Syst, ed, 12, tom, 1, />. 218. — Gmel. Syst, 1, />. 580, 1. — Ind, Om. p,
895, 1. Plotus melanogaster. Id. p, 896, var. B^var. C. — Anhmga Brasiliensibus Tup'u
namh, Marcgrav. Hist, Nat. Bras, p, 218. — UAnhinga, Briss. 6, p. 476. — Saler-
NE, p. 375. — Buff. Ois. 8, p. 448. Anhinga noir de Cayenne^ PI. enl. 960. — White-
bellied Darter^ Lath. Gen. Syn. 3, p. 622, 1. Black-bellied Barter^ Id, p, 624, ucr. A.,
pi. 106. Id, p. 625, var. B. — Colymbus colubrinus, Snake-birdy Bartram, p. 132, 295.
— Peale’s Museum^ No, 3188, Male,
HEAD, neck, whole body above and below, of a deep shining
black, with a green gloss, the plumage extremely soft, and agreeable
to the touch ; the commencement of the back is ornamented with
small oblong ashy white spots, which pass down the shoulders, in-
creasing in size according to the size of the feathers, and running
down the scapulars ; wings and tail of a shining black, the latter
broadly tipped with dirty white ; the lesser coverts are glossed with
green, and are spotted with ashy white; the last row of the lesser
coverts, and the coverts of the secondaries, are chiefly ashy white,
which forms a large bar across the wing ; the outer web of the large
scapulars is crimped; tail rounded, the two under feathers the short-
est, the two upper feathers, for the greater part of their length,
beautifully crimped on their outer webs, the two next feathers in a
slight degree so ; bill dusky at the base and above, the upper man-
dible brownish yellow at the sides, the lower mandible yellow
ochre ; inside of the mouth dusky ; irides dark crimson ; the orbit
of the eye, next to the plumage of the head, is of a greenish blue
^ Named in the plate Black-bellied Darter.
i
«
i
’* ' * * J
«
V.
SNAKE-BIRD.
245
colour, this passes round, in the form of a zigzag band, across the
front — the next colour is black, which entirely surrounds the eye ;
eyelids of a bright azure, running into violet next to the eye ball ;
lores greenish blue; naked skin in front black; jugular pouch
jet black ; hind-head siibcrested ; along the sides of the neck there
runs a line of loose unwebbed feathers, of a dingy ash colour, re-
sembling the plumage of callow young, here and there on the up-
per part of the neck one perceives a feather of the same ; on the
forehead there is a small knob or protuberance ; the neck, near its
centre, takes a singular bend, in order to enable the bird to dart
forward its bill, with velocity, when it takes its prey; legs and feet
of a yellowish clay colour, the toes, and the hind part of the legs,
with a dash of dusky ; claws greatly falcated ; when the wings are
closed, they extend to the centre of the tail.
Length from the tip of the bill to the end of the tail two feet
ten inches,^ breadth three feet ten inches ; bill to the angle of the
mouth full four inches ; tail ten inches and a half, composed of
twelve broad and stiff feathers. Weight three pounds and a half.
The serratures of the bill are extremely sharp, so much so,
that when one applies tow, or such like substance, to the bird’s
mouth, it is with difficulty disengaged.
The lower mandible and throat, as in the Divers, are capable
of great expansion, to facilitate the swallowing of fish, which con-
stitute the food of this species. The position of these birds, when
standing, is like that of the Gannets.
The above description was taken from a fine adult male speci-
men, which was shot by my fellow traveller, Mr. T. Peale, on the
first of March, 1818, in a creek below the Cow Ford, situated on
^ The admeasurement of the specimen described in tlie first edition of this work was
made by Wilson himself, from the stuffed bird in Peale’s Museum. It differs considerably
from that described above ; but as our specimen was a very fine one, there is room to conjec-
ture that there was some error in the admeasurement of the former, ours being described imme-
diately after death.
3 Q
VOL. IX.
246
SNAKE-BIRD.
the river St. John, in East Florida. We saw some others in the
vicinity, but owing to their extreme vigilance and shyness we could
not procure them.
From the description of the White-bellied Darter of Latham
and others, which is unquestionably this species, one would be in-
clined to conjecture that the bird figured in our plate, as the fe-
male, is the young male. But this point it is not in my power to
ascertain. The specimens in Peale’s Museum, from which Wilson
took his figures, are labelled male and female. All the Darters
which I saw, while in Florida, were males.
The Snake-bird is an inhabitant of the Carolinas, Georgia,
the Floridas and Louisiana; and is common in Cayenne and Bra-
sil. It seems to have derived its name from the singular form of
its head and neck, which, at a distance, might be mistaken for a
serpent. In those countries where noxious animals abound, we
may readily conceive that the appearance of this bird, extending
its slender neck through the foliage of a tree, would tend to startle
the wary traveller, whose imagination had portrayed objects of dan-
ger lurking in every thicket. Its habits, too, while in the water,
have not a little contributed to its name. It generally swims with
its body immerged, especially when apprehensive of danger, its
long neck extended above the surface, and vibrating in a peculiar
manner. The first individual that I saw in Florida was sneaking
away to avoid me^ along the shore of a reedy marsh, which was
lined with alligators, and the first impression on my mind was that
I beheld a snake ; but the recollection of the habits of the bird
soon undeceived me. On approaching it, it gradually sank ; and
my next view of it was at many fathoms distance, its head merely
out of the water. To pursue these birds at such times is useless,
as they cannot be induced to rise, or even expose their bodies.
Wherever the lin^bs of a tree project over, and dip into the
water, there the Darters are sure to be found, these situations be-
ing convenient resting places for the purpose of sunning and preen-
SNAKE-BIRD.
247
ing themselves ; and, probably, giving them a better opportunity,
than when swimming, of observing their finny prey. They crawl
from the water upon the limbs, and fix themselves in an upright
position, which they maintain in the utmost silence. If there be
foliage, or the long moss, they secrete themselves in it in such a
manner that they cannot be perceived, unless one be close to them.
When approached, they drop into the water with such surprising
skill, that one is astonished how so large a body can plunge with
so little noise, the agitation of the water being, apparently, not
greater than that occasioned by the gliding of an eel.
Formerly the Darter was considered by voyagers as an ano-
malous production, a monster partaking of the nature of the snake
and the duck ; and in some ancient charts which I have seen, it is
delineated in all the extravagance of fiction.
From Mr. William Bartram we have received the following
account of the subject of our history:
“ Here is in this river,* and in the waters all over Florida, a
very curious and handsome bird, the people call them Snake-biids,
I think I have seen paintings of them on the Chinese screens, and
other Indian pictures ; they seem to be a species of Colymbus, but
far more beautiful and delicately formed than any other that I
have ever seen. They delight to sit in little peaceable communi-
ties, on the dry limbs of trees, hanging over the still waters, with
their wings and tails expanded, I suppose to cool and air them-
selves, when at the same time they behold their images in the
watery mirror. At such times when we approach them they drop
off the limbs into the water as if dead, and for a minute or two
are not to be seen ; when on a sudden, at a great distance, their
long slender head and neck appear, like a snake rising erect out
of the water ; and no other part of them is to be seen when swim-
ming, except sometimes the tip end of their tail. In the heat of
* The river St. Juan, East Florida.
248
SNAKE-BIRD.
the day they are seen in great numbers, sailing very high in the
air over lakes and rivers.
» I doubt not but if this bird had been an inhabitant of the
Tiber in Ovid’s days, it would have furnished him with a subject
for some beautiful and entertaining metamorphoses. I believe
they feed entirely on fish, for their flesh smells and tastes intolera-
bly strong of it : it is scarcely to be eaten, unless one is constrain-
ed by insufferable hunger. They inhabit tbe waters of Cape Fear
river, and, soutberly. East and West Florida.*
* Bartram’s Travels, p. 132.— MS. in the possession of the author.
249
FEMALE DARTER OR SNAKE-BIRD.
[Plate LXXIV.— Fig 2.]
Anhinga de Cayenne^ PI. enl. 959. — Peale’s Museurrif No. 3189, Pemale.
THE female Darter measures three feet five inches in length;
and differs in having the neck before of a roan colour or iron gray,
the breast the same, but lighter and tinged with pale chesnut ; the
belly as in the male ; where the iron gray joins the black on the
belly, there is a narrow band of chesnut; upper head, and back of
the neck, dark sooty brown, streaked with blackish ; cheeks and
chin pale yellow ochre ; in every other respect the same as the
male, except in having only a few slight tufts of hair along the
side of the neck ; the tail is twelve inches long to its insertion,
generally spread out like a fan, and crimped like the other on the
outer vanes of the middle feathers only.
The above is a description of the supposed female Darter,
which is preserved in Peale’s Museum ; Wilson’s figure was taken
from this specimen. It was contrary to his practice to make his
drawings from stuffed birds, but as he had never had an opportu-
nity of beholding this species in a living or recent state, he was
compelled, in this instance, to resort to the Museum.
The author having written to Mr. John Abbot, of Georgia,
relative to this species, and some others, received from this distin-
guished naturalist a valuable communication, from which the fol-
lowing extract is made : “ Both the Darters I esteem as but one
species. I have now by me a drawing of the male, or Black-bel-
lied, only; but have had specimens of both at the same time. I
remember that the upper parts of the female were similar to those
3 R
VOL. IX.
250
FEMALE SNAKE.BIRD.
of the male^ except that the colour and markings were not so pure
and distinct; length thirty-six inches, extent forty-six. These
birds frequent the ponds, rivers and creeks, during-the summer;
build in the trees of the swamps, and those of the islands in the
ponds ; they construct their nests of sticks ; eggs of a sky blue
colour. I inspected a nest, which was not very large, it contained
two eggs and six young ones, the latter varying much in size ; they
will occupy the same tree for a series of years. They commonly
sit on a stump, which rises out of the water, in the mornings of
the spring, and spread their wings to the sun, from which circum-
stance they have obtained the appellation of Sun-birds. They are
difficult to be shot when swimming, in consequence of only their
heads being above the water.”
Never having seen a specimen of the Black-bellied Darter of
Senegal and Java, I cannot give an opinion touching its identity
with ours.
251
GREAT NORTHERN DIVER OR LOON.
COLYMBUS GLACMLIS.
[Plate LXXIV.— Fig. 3.]
Colymbus ghcialis, Lin. Syst. ed. 12, tom. 1, p. 221, 5. C. immer, Id. p. 222, No. 6.-Ind.
Orn.p. 799, 1. C. immer. Id. p. 800, H.—Le grand Plongeon, Briss. 6, p. 105, pi.
\0,Jig. 1. Le grand Plongeon taehete. Id. p. 120, pi. 11,/^. 2.— Ze grand Plan-
geon, Buff. Ois. 8, p. 251. L'lmbrim, ou grand Plongeon de la mer du nord, Id. p,
258, tab. 22. PI. enl. 952. — Northern Diver, Lath. Gen. Syn. 3, p. 337. Imber Diver,
Id. p. 340.— Penn. Brit. Zool. No. 237, 238. Arct. Zool. No. 439, 440.— Bewick,
-2,/). 168, 170.— Montagu, Orn. Die. Sup. App.— how. Fauna Orcadensis, p. 108,
no.— Plongeon Imbrim, Temm. Man. d’Orn. p. 910.— Peale’s Museum, No. 3262,
male and young. — 3263, female.
THIS bird in Pennsylvania is migratory. In the autumn it
makes its appearance with the various feathered tribes that fre-
quent our waters ; and when the streams are obstructed with ice,
it departs for the southern states.* In the months of March and
April it is again seen ; and after lingering awhile, it leaves us for
the purpose of breeding. The Loons are found along the coast as
well as in the interior ; but in the summer they retire to the fresh
water lakes and ponds. We have never heard that they breed in
Pennsylvania ; but it is said they do in Missibisci pond, near Bos-
ton, Massachusetts. The female lays two large brownish eggs.
They are commonly seen in pairs, and procure their food, which is
fish, in the deepest water of our rivers, diving after it, and contin-
uing under for a length of time. Being a wary bird, it Is seldom
they are killed, eluding their pursuers by their astonishing faculty
* The Loon is said to winter in the Chesapeake bay.
252
GREAT NORTHERN DIVER.
of diving. They seem averse from flying, and are but seldom seen
on the wing. They are never eaten.
The Loon is restless before a storm ; and an experienced mas-
ter of a coasting vessel informed me that he always knew when a
tempest was approaching by the cry of this bird, which is very
shrill, and may be heard at the distance of a mile or more. The
correctness of this observation I have myself since experienced in
winter voyage on the southern coasts of the United States.
This species seldom visits the shores of Britain, except in
very severe winters ; but it is met with in the north of Europe,
and spreads along the arctic coast as far as the mouth of the river
Ob, in the dominions of Russia. It is found about Spitzbergen,
Iceland, and Hudson's Bay. Makes its nest, in the more northern
I’egions, on the little isles of fresh water lakes ; every pair keep a
lake to themselves. It sees well, flies very high, and, darting
obliquely, falls secure into its nest. Appears in Greenland in April
or the beginning of May; and goes away in September or October,
on the first fall of snow,^ It is also found at Nootka Sound*|' and
Kamtschatka.
The Barabinzians, a nation situated between the river Ob and
the Irtisch, in the Russian dominions, tan the breasts of this and
other water fowl, whose skins they prepare in such a manner as
to preserve the down \ipon them ; and, sewing a number of these
together, they sell them to make pelises, caps, &c. Garments
made of these are very warm, never imbibing the least moisture;
and are more lasting than could be imagined.§
The natives of Greenland use the skins for clothing; and the
Indians about Hudson’s Bay adorn their heads with circlets of their
feathers.^
Lewis and Clark’s party, at the mouth of the Columbia, saw
Pennant. f Cook’s last voy. ii, p. 237, Am. cd.' § Latham. IT Arctic Zoology.
GREAT NORTHERN DIVER.
253
robes made of the skins of Loons ;* and abundance of these birds
during the time that they wintered at Fort Clatsop on that river. •j'
The Laplanders, according to Regnard, cover their heads
with a cap made of the skin of a Loom (Loon), which word signi-
fies in their language lame, because the bird cannot walk well.
They place it on their head in such a manner, that the bird’s head
falls over their brow, and its wings cover their ears.
“Northern Divers,” says Hearne, “though common in Hud-
son’s Bay, are by no means plentiful they are seldom found near
the coast, but more frequently in fresh water lakes, and usually in
pairs. They build their nests at the edge of small islands, or the
margins of lakes or ponds ; they lay only two eggs, and it is very
common to find only one pair and their young in one sheet of
water ; a great proof of their aversion to society. They are known
in Hudson’s Bay by the name of Loons.”§
The Great Northern Diver measures two feet ten inches from
the tip of the bill to the end of the tail, and four feet six inches in
breadth ; the bill is strong, of a glossy black, and four inches and
three quarters long to the corner of the mouth ; the edges of the
bill do not fit exactly into each other, and are ragged, the lower
mandible separates into two branches, which are united by a thin
elastic membrane, and are easily moveable horizontally or reced-
ing from each other, so as to form a wider gap to facilitate the
swallowing of large fish ; tongue bifid ; irides dark blood red ; the
head, and half of the length of the neck, are of a deep black, with
a green gloss, and purple reflections ; this is succeeded by a band
consisting of interrupted white and black lateral stripes, which en-
compasses the neck, and tapers to a point on its fore part, without
joining — this band measures about an inch and a half in its widest
part, and to appearance is not continuous on the back part of the
* Gass’s Journal. t History of the Expedition, vol. ii, p. 189.
t} Hearne’s Journey, p. 429, quarto.
3 S
VOL. IX.
254
GREAT NORTHERN DIVER.
neck, being concealed by some thick, overhanging, black feathers,
but on separating the latter the band becomes visible : the feathers
which form these narrow stripes are white, streaked down their
centre with black, and, what is a remarkable peculiarity, their
webs project above the common surface; below this a broad band
of dark glossy green and violet, which is blended behind with the
plumage of the back ; the lower part of the neck, and the sides of
the breast, are ribbed in the same manner as the band above ; be-
low the chin a few stripes of the same ; the whole of the upper parts
are of a deep black, slightly glossed with green, and thickly spot-
ted with white, in regular transverse or semicircular rows, two
spots on the end of each feather — those on the upper part of the
back, shoulders, rump and tail coverts, small and roundish, those
on the centre of the back square and larger, those on the scapulars
are the largest, and of an oblong square shape ; the wing feathers
and tail are plain brown black, the latter composed of twenty fea-
thers ; the lower parts are pure white, a slight dusky line across
the vent; the scapulars descend over the wing, when closed, and
the belly feathers ascend so as to meet them, by which means
every part of the wing is concealed, except towards the tip ; the
outside of the legs and feet is black, inside lead colour; the leg is
four inches in length, and the foot measures, along the exterior toe
to the tip of its claw, four inches and three quarters ; both legs and
feet are marked with five-sided polygons. Weight of the speci-
men described eight pounds and a half.
The female Diver is somewhat less than the male ; the bill is
yellowish ; crown, back part of the neck, and whole upper parts,
pale brown ; the plumage of part of the back and scapulars is tip-
ped with pale ash ; the throat, lower side of the neck, and whole
under parts, are white, but not so pure as that of the male, having
a yellowish tinge ; the quill feathers dark brown. She has no ap-
pearance of bands on her neck, or of spots on her body.
GREAT NORTHERN DIVER.
255
The young males do not obtain their perfect plumage until
the second or third year. One which we saw, and which was con-
jectured to be a yearling, had some resemblance to the female,
with the exception of its upper parts being of a darker and purer
brown or mouse colour, and its under parts of a more delicate
white ; it had likewise a few spots on the back and scapulars ; but
none of those markings on the neck which distinguish the full
grown male.
The conformation of the ribs and bones of this species is re-
markable, and merits particular examination.
In the account which some of the European ornithologists give
of their Northern Diver, we presume there is an inaccuracy. They
say it measures three feet six inches in length, and four feet eight
in breadth ; and weighs sixteen pounds. If this be a correct state-
ment, it would lead to the surmise that our Diver is a different
species ; for of several specimens which we examined, the best and
largest has been described for this work, the admeasurement of
which bird comes considerably short of that of the European, men-
tioned above. The weight, as has been stated, was eight pounds
and a half.
According to Temminck the adult male and female are alike
in plumage. All the females which have passed under my exami-
nation differed from the old males ; and it is the universal opinion
among our sportsmen who reside on the coast, where the Loons
are common, that the adults, of both sexes, may always be distin-
guished by their garb. However, in confirmation of Temminck’s
opinion, I can adduce the authority of the Prince of Musignano,
Charles Lucian Bonaparte, who has informed me that he has in his
collection a female, which was shot in the Delaware, and which
differs in no respect from the adult male.
On a re-examination of the Supplement to the Ornithological
Dictionary of Montagu, I find, upon this subject, the following re-
256
GREAT NORTHERN DIVER.
marks, which should seem to put the question at rest respecting
the identity of the European and American species : “ It should
appear that the size of this species has been commonly exaggerat-
ed, or they must vary very materially, since those which have
come under our examination did not exceed ten pounds; and an
old or matured male measured only two feet eight inches. A young
female, before the plumage was perfected, weighed eight pounds
six ounces, and measured two feet seven inches in length.
“ A Northern Diver taken alive, was kept in a pond for some
months, which gave us an opportunity of attending to its manners.
In a few days it became extremely docile, would come at the call,
from one side of the pond to the other, and would take food from
the hand. The bird had received an injury in the head, which
had deprived one eye of its sight, and the other was a little im-
paired, but notwithstanding, it could by incessantly diving, disco-
ver all the fish that was thrown into the pond. In defect of fish it
would eat flesh.
“ It is observable that the legs of this bird are so constructed
and situated, as to render it incapable of walking upon them. This
is probably the case with all the divers, as well as the grebes.
“ When this bird quitted the water, it shoved its body along
upon the ground, like a seal, by jerks, rubbing the breast against
the ground; and it returned again to the water in a similar man-
ner. In swimming and diving,* only the legs are used, and not
the wings, as in the guillemot and auk tribes ; and by their situa-
tion so far behind, and their little deviation from the line of the
body, the bird is enabled to propel itself in the water with great
velocity in a straight line, as well as turn with astonishing quick-
ness.”
* I have never seen this bird diving in pursuit of fish, but I have seen it in the act of
diving to avoid danger, and took notice that its wings, when beneath the surface of the water,
did not lie close to the body, but they were not as much extended as when in the act of flying.
They had no visible motion, hence the presumption is that their only use is to balance the body.
257
LAUGHING GULL.
LJIRUS JlTRICJLLJi.
[Plate LXXIV.— Fig. 4.]
Lams atricillay Lin. Syst, ed, 10, tom. 1, />. 136, 5. — Gmel. Syst. l,/>. 600, 8. — Ind. Orn.
p. 813, 4. — Laughing Gull^ Catesby, 1, PL 89. — Lath. Gen. Syn. 3, p, 383, 12, —
Arct. Zool. No. 454. — La Mouette rieusCy Briss. 6,j&. 192, 13, />/. 18,^^. 1. — Mouette
a capuchon plombiy Temm. Man. d'Orn. p. 779. — Peale’s Muscumy No. 3381.
LENGTH seventeen inches, extent three feet six inches ; bill,
thighs, legs, feet, sides of the mouth and eyelids, dark blood red ;
inside of the mouth vermilion ; bill nearly two inches and a half
long; the nostril is placed rather low ; the eyes are black ; above
and below each eye there is a spot of white ; the head and part of
the neck are black, remainder of the neck, breast, whole lower
parts, tail-coverts and tail, pure white ; the scapulars, wing-coverts
and whole upper parts are of a fine blue ash colour; the first five
primaries are black towards their extremities ; the secondaries are
tipt largely with white, and almost all the primaries slightly ; the
bend of the wing is white, and nearly three inches long ; the tail
is almost even, it consists of twelve featliers, and its coverts reach
within an inch and a half of its tip; the wings extend two inches
beyond the tail ; a delicate blush is perceivable on the breast and
belly. Length of tarsus two inches.
The head of the female is of a dark dusky slate colour, in
other respects she resembles the male.
In some individuals the crown is of a dusky gray ; the upper
part and sides of the neck of a lead colour ; the bill and legs of a
dirty, dark, purplish brown. Others have not the white spots
above and below the eyes ; these are young birds.
3 T
VOL. IX.
258
LAUGHING GULL.
The changes of plumage, to which birds of this genus are
subject, have tended not a little to confound the naturalist; and a
considerable collision of opinion, arising from an imperfect ac-
quaintance Avith the living subjects, has been the result. To in-
vestigate thoroughly their history, it is obviously necessary that
the ornithologist should frequently explore their native haunts ;
and to determine the species of periodical or occasional visiters,
an accurate comparative examination of many specimens, either
alive, or recently killed, is indispensable. Less confusion would
arise among authors, if they would occasionally abandon their ac-
customed walks — their studies and their museums, and seek correct
knowledge in the only place where it is to be obtained — in the
grand Temple of Nature. As it respects, in particular, the tribe
under review, the zealous inquirer would find himself amply com-
pensated for all his toil, by observing these neat and clean birds
coursing along the rivers and coast, enlivening the prospect by
their airy movements : now skimming closely over the watery ele-
ment, Avatching the motions of the surges, and noAV rising into the
higher regions, sporting Avith the Avinds ; while he inhaled the in-
vigorating breezes of the ocean, *and listened to the soothing mur-
murs of its billows.
The Laughing Gull, known in America by the name of the
Black-headed Gull, is one of the most beautiful and most sociable
of its genus. They make their appearance on the coast of New-
jersey in the latter part of April ; and do not fail to give notice of
their arrival by their familiarity and loquacity. The inhabitants
treat them Avith the same indifference that they manifest towards
all those harmless birds which do not minister either to their ap-
petite or their avarice ; and hence the Black-heads may be seen in
companies around the farm-house ; coursing along the river shores,
gleaning up the refuse of the fishermen, and the animal substances
left by the tide ; or scattered over the marshes and newly ploughed
LAUGHING GULL.
259
fields, regaling on the worms, insects and their larvae, which, in
the vernal season, the bounty of Nature provides for the sustenance
of myriads of the feathered race.
On the Jersey side of the Delaware bay, in the neighbourhood
of Fishing-creek, about the middle of May, the Black-headed Gulls
assemble in great multitudes, to feed upon the remains of the King
Crabs which the hogs have left, or upon the spawn which those
curious animals deposite in the sand, and which is scattered along
the shore by the waves. At such times if any one approach to dis-
turb them, the Gulls will rise up in clouds, every individual squal-
ling so loud, that the roar may be heard at the distance of two or
three miles.
It is an interesting spectacle to behold this species when about
recommencing their migrations. If the weather be calm, they will
rise up in the air, spirally, chattering all the while to each other in
the most sprightly manner, their notes at such times resembling
the singing of a hen, but far louder, changing often into a haxv, ha
ha ha haxv ! the last syllable lengthened out like the excessive laugii
of a negro. When mounting and mingling together, like motes in
the sunbeams, their black heads and wing tips, and snow white
plumage, give them a very beautiful appearance. After gaining
an immense height, they all move off, with one consent, in a direct
line towards the point of their destination.
This bird breeds in the marshes. The eggs are three in
number, of a dun clay colour, thinly marked with small irregular
touches of a pale purple, and pale brown ; some are of a deeper
dun, with larger marks, and less tapering than others ; the egg
measures two inches and a quarter by one inch and a half.
The Black-heads frequently penetrate into the interior, espe-
cially as far as Philadelphia ; but they seem to prefer the neigh-
bourhood of the coast for the purpose of breeding. They retire
southward early in the autumn.
260
LITTLE GUILLEMOT.*
URIA ALLE.
[Plate LXXIV.— Fig. 5.]
Uria alley Temm. Man. d'Om. p. 928. — Alca alky Lin. Syst. ed. 12, tom. 1, p. 211, 5. —
Gmel. Syst. 1, p. 554, 5. — Ind. Orn. p. 795, 10. — Uria minoVy Briss, 6, p. 73, 2. —
Le Petit Guillemot femelky PI. enl. 917. — Small black and white Diver, Edwards, pL
91. — Little Auk, Lath. Gen. Syn. 3,/?. 327. — Penn. Arct. ZooL No. 429. — Bewick,
2, p. 158. — Peale’s Museum, No. 2978.
OF the history of this little stranger but few particulars are
known. With us it is a very rare bird ; and, when seen, it is gene-
rally in the vicinity of the sea. The specimen from which the
figure in the plate was taken, was killed at Great Egg-harbour, in
the month of December, 1811, and was sent to Wilson as a great
curiosity. It measured nine inches in length, and fourteen in ex-
tent; the bill, upper part of the head, back, wings and tail, were
black ; the upper part of the breast, and hind-head, were gray, or
white mixed with ash; the sides of the neck, whole lower parts,
and tips of secondaries were pure white ; feet and legs black, shins
pale flesh colour ; above each eye there was a small spot of white
the lower scapulars streaked slightly with the same.
The Little Guillemot is said to be but a rare visitant of the
British isles. It is met with in various parts of the north, even as
far as Spitzbergen ; is common in Greenland, in company with the
black-billed Auk, and feeds upon the same kind of food. The
Greenlanders call it the Ice-bird, from the circumstance of its being
* Named in the plate Little Auk.
t In Peale’s Museum there is an excellent specimen of this species, which has likewise a
smaller spot below each eye.
LITTLE GUILLEMOT.
261
the harbinger of ice. It lays two bluish white eggs, larger than
those of the Pigeon. It flies quick, and dives well ; and is always
dipping its bill into the water while swimming, or at rest on that
element. Walks better on land than others of the genus. It
grows fat in the stormy season, from the waves bringing plenty of
crabs and small fish within its reach. It is not a very crafty bird,
and may be easily taken. It varies to quite white ; and sometimes
is found with a reddish breast.'**'
To the anatomist, the internal organization of this species is
deserving attention ; it is so constructed as to be capable of con-
tracting or dilating itself at pleasure. We know not what Nature
intends by this conformation, unless it be to facilitate diving, for
which the compressed form is well adapted ; and likewise the body
when expanded will be rendered more buoyant, and fit for the pur-
pose of swimming upon the surface of the water.
Latham. Pennant;
3 U
VOL. IX.
262
TURKEY VULTURE OR TURKEY-BUZZARD.
VULTUR JlURJl.
[Plate LXXV.— Fig 1.]
Fultur auray Lin. Syst. ed. 10, tom. 1, p. 86, 4. — Ind. Orn. p. 4, No. 8. — Vieillot, Oxs.
de VAm. Sep. 1, p. 25,/)/. 2, bis. — Carrion CroWy Sloane, Jam. 2, p. 294, tab. 254. —
Carrion Vulture^ Lath. Gen. Syn. 1, p. 9. — Le Vautour du Brhily Briss. 1, p. 468. —
Turkey-Buzzardy Catesby, Car. 1, p. 6. — Bartram’s Trccvehy p. 289, — Cozca-
quauhtliy Clavicero, Hist. Mex. 1, p. 47, English translation. — American Fulturcy
Shaw, Gen, Zool, 7, p. 36. Peale’s Museum, No. 11, male — 12, female.
THIS species is well known throughout, the United States,
but is most numerous in the southern section of the union. In
the northern and middle states it is partially migratory, the greater
part retiring to the south on the approach of cold weather. But
numbers remain all the winter in Maryland, Delaware and New-
jersey ; particularly in the vicinity of the large rivers and the
ocean, which afford a supply of food at all seasons.
In Newjersey,* the Turkey-buzzard hatches in May, the deep
recesses of the solitary swamps of that state affording situations
well suited to the purpose. The female is at no pains to form a
nest with materials ; but having chosen a suitable place, which is
either a truncated hollow tree, or an excavated stump or log, she
lays on the rotten wood from two to four eggs, of a dull dirty
white, splashed all over with chocolate, mingled with blackish
touches, the blotches largest and thickest towards the great end ;
* The author mentions Newjersey in particular, as in that state he has visited the breed-
ing places of the Turkey-buzzard, and can therefore speak with certainty of the fact. Penn-
sylvania, it is more than probable, affords situations equally attractive, which arc also tenanted
by this Vulture, for hatching and rearing its young.
Houf pt'.Turkfif Huixarti, sue Lir'e
I/nu/ Hitliire. she ef' I.it'e
. * , - • «
* . >• '! *1
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i •'" 'jl *.‘ • • -i«>'
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. ' I -« * i
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k».
'fiOTMf r* '
il •
V '*r<A'4 . H*-*^^*'
i-4> ."• Uv--'
t t.it.
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jf ■ .ttt ' ^
:^fV ^ «»
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I r iir r-«i •
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<1 mU
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f t ■•
TURKEY VULTURE,
263
the form something like the egg of a Goose, but blunter at the
small end ; length two inches and three quarters, breadth two
inches. The male watches often while the female is sitting ; and
if not disturbed they will occupy the same breeding place for seve-
ral years. The young are clothed with a whitish down, similar
to that which covers young goslings. If any person approach the
nest, and attempt to handle them, they will immediately vomit
such offensive matter as to compel the intruder to a precipitate
retreat.
The Turkey-buzzards are gregarious, peaceable and harm-
less; never offering any violence to a living animal, or, like the
plunderers of the Falco tribe, depriving the husbandman of his
stock. Hence, though in consequence of their filthy habits they
are not beloved, yet they are respected for their usefulness ; and
in the southern states, where they are most needed, they, as well
as the Black Vultures, are protected by a law, which imposes a
fine on those who wilfully deprive them of life. In the middle and
northern states, being unprotected by law, these useful birds are
exposed to persecution, and, consequently, they avoid the residence
of man. They generally roost in flocks, on the limbs of large
trees ; and they may be seen in a summer's morning, spreading
out their wings to the rising sun, and remaining in that posture for
a considerable time. Pennant conjectures that this is “ to purify
their bodies, which are most offensively fetid. But is it reason-
able to suppose that that effluvia can be offensive to them, which
arises from food perfectly adapted to their nature, and which is
constantly the object of their desires ? Many birds, and particu-
larly those of the granivorous kind, have a similar habit, which,
doubtless, is attended with the same exhilarating effect, that an
exposure to the pure air of the morning has on the frame of one
just risen from repose.
The Turkey-buzzards, unless when rising from the earth, sel-
dom flap their wings, but sweep along in ogees, and dipping and
264
TURKEY VULTURE.
rising lines, and move with great rapidity. They are often seen
in companies, soaring at an immense height, particularly previous
to a thunderstorm. Their wings are not spread horizontally, but
form an upward angle with the body, the tips having an upward
curve. Their sense of smelling is astonishingly exquisite, and they
never fail to discover carrion, even when at the distance from it of
several miles. When once they have found a carcass, if not mo-
lested, they will not leave the place until the whole is devoured.
At such times they eat so immoderately that frequently they are
incapable of rising, and maybe caught without much difficulty;
but few that are acquainted with them will have the temerity to
undertake the task. A man in the state of Delaware, a few years
ago, observing some Turkey-buzzards regaling themselves upon
the carcass of a horse, which was in a highly putrid state, conceiv-
ed the design of making a captive of one, to take home for the
amusement of his children. He cautiously approached, and, spring-
ing upon the unsuspicious group, grasped a fine plump fellow in
his arms, and was bearing off his prize in triumph, when lo ! the
indignant Vulture disgorged such a torrent of filth in the face of
our hero, that it produced all the effects of the most powerful
emetic, and for ever cured him of his inclination for Turkey-buz-
zards.
On the continent of America this species inhabits a vast range
of territory, being common,* it is said, from Nova Scotia to Terra
del Fuego.-j* How far, on the Pacific, to the northward of the river
Columbia they are found, we are not informed ; but it is ascertained
In the northern states of our union the Turkey-buzzard is only occasionally seen, it is
considered a rare bird by the inhabitants,
t “ Great numbers of a species of Vulture, commonly called Carrion Crow by the sailors,
(Vultur aura,) were seen upon this island (New-year’s Island, near Cape Horn, lat. 55 S. 67
W.), and probably feed on young seal.cubs, which either die in the birth, or which they take
an opportunity to seize upon.*’ Cook calls them Turkey-Buzzards. Forster’s Voy. ii, p. 516,
quarto, London, 1777.
TURKEY VULTURE.
265
that they extend their migrations to the latter, allured thither
by the quantity of dead salmon which at certain seasons line its
shores.
They are numerous in the West India islands, where they are
said to be “far inferior in size to those of North America.”* This
leads us to the inquiry whether or not the present species has been
confounded by the naturalists of Europe, with the Black Vulture,
or Carrion-crow, which is so common in the southern parts of our
continent. If not, why has the latter been totally overlooked in
the most noted Ornithologies with which the world has been fa-
voured, when it is so conspicuous and remarkable, that there is no
stranger who visits South Carolina, Georgia, or the Spanish pro-
vinces, but is immediately struck with the novelty of its appear-
ance ? We can find no cause for the Turkey-buzzards of the islands-]-
being smaller than ours, and must conclude that the Carrion-crow,
which is of less size, has been mistaken for the former. In the
history which follows, we shall endeavour to make it evident that
the species described by Ulloa, as being so numerous in South
America, is no other than the Black Vulture.
Kolben, in his account of the Cape of Good-Hope, mentions a
Vulture, which he represents as very voracious and noxious: “I
have seen,” says he, “ many carcasses of cows, oxen, and other
tame creatures which the Eagles had slain. I say carcasses, but
they were rather skeletons, the flesh and entrails being all devour-
ed, and nothing remaining but the skin and bones. But the skin
i
* Pennant, Arctic Zoology.
t The Vulture which Sir Hans Sloane figured and described, and which he says is com-
mon in Jamaica, is undoubtedly the Vultur aura; “ The head and an inch in the neck are bare
and without feathers, of a flesh colour, covered with a thin membrane, like that of Turkies,
with which the most part of the bill is covered likewise ; bill (below the membrane) more than
an inch long, whitish at the point ; tail broad and nine inches long ; legs and feet three inches
long ; it flies exactly like a Kite, and preys on nothing but when dead it devours their
carcasses, whence they are not molested.*’ Sloane, Nat. Hist. Jam. vol. ii, p. 294, folio.
3 X
VOL. IX.
266
TURKEY VULTURE.
and bones being in their natural places, the flesh being, as it
were, scooped out, and the wound, by which the Eagles enter the
body, being ever in the belly, you would not, till you had come
up to the skeleton, have had the least suspicion that any such mat-
ter had happened. The Dutch at the Cape frequently call those
Eagles, on account of their tearing out the entrails of beasts,
Strunt-Vogelsy i. e. Dung-birds. It frequently happens, that an ox
that is freed from the plough, and left to find his way home, lies
down to rest himself by the way ; and if he does so, ’tis a great
chance but the Eagles fall upon him and devour him. They at-
tack an ox or cow in a body, consisting of an hundred and up-
wards.”*
Buffbn conjectures that this mui'derous Vulture is the Tur-
key-buzzard, and concludes his history of the latter with the fol-
lowing invective against the whole fraternity ; In every part of
the globe they are voracious, slothful, offensive and hateful, and,
like the wolves, are as noxious during their life, as useless after
their death.”
It turns out, however, that this ferocious Vulture is not the
Turkey-buzzard, as may be seen in Levaillant’s “Histoire Natu-
relle des Oiseaux d'Afrique,” vol. 1, pi. 10, where the Chasse-fiente
or Strunt-Vogel is figured and described. The truth of Kolben^s
story is doubtful j and we would express our regret, that enlighten-
ed naturalists should so readily lend an ear to the romances of
travellers, who, to excite astonishment, freely give currency to
every ridiculous tale, which the designing or the credulous impose
upon them.
The Turkey Vulture is two feet and a half in length, and six
feet two inches in breadth ; the bill from the corner of the mouth
is almost two inches and a half long, of a dark horn colour for
somewhat more than an inch from the tip, the nostril a remarkably
* Medley’s Kolben, vol. ii, p. 135.
TURKEY VULTURE.
267
wide slit or opening through it ; the tongue is greatly concave, car-
tilaginous, and finely serrated on its edges ; ears subcordate ; eyes
dark, in some specimens reddish hazel ; wrinkled skin of the head
and neck reddish ; the neck not so much caruncled as that of the
Black Vulture ; from the hind-head to the neck feathers, the space
is covered with down of a sooty black colour ; the fore part of the
neck is bare as far as the breast bone, the skin on the lower part,
or pouch, very much wrinkled, this naked skin is not discernible
without removing the plumage which arches over it ; the whole
lower parts, lining of the wings, rump and tail coverts, are of a
sooty brown, the feathers of the belly and vent hairy ; the plumage
of the neck is large and tumid, and, with that of the back and
shoulders, black; the scapulars and secondaries are black on their
outer webs, skirted with tawny brown, the latter slightly tipped
with white ; primaries and their coverts plain brown, the former
pointed, third primary the longest ; coverts of the secondaries, and
lesser coverts, tawny brown, centred with black, some of the fea-
thers, at their extremities, slightly edged with white ; the tail is
twelve inches long, rounded, of a broAvnish black, and composed
of twelve feathers, which are broad at their extremities ; inside of
wings and tail light ash ; the wings reach to the end of the tail ;
the whole body and neck, beneath the plumage, are thickly clothed
with a white down, which feels like cotton ; the shafts of the pri-
maries are yellowish white above, and those of the tail brown,
both pure white below ; the plumage of the neck, back, shoulders,
scapulars and secondaries, is glossed with green and bronze, and
has purple reflections ; the thighs are feathered to the knees ; feet
considerably webbed ; middle toe three inches and a half in length,
and about an inch and a half longer than the outer one, which is
the next longest ; the sole of the foot is hard and rough ; claws
dark horn colour ; the legs are of a pale flesh colour, and three
inches long. The claws are larger, but the feet slenderer, than
those of the Carrion-crow. The bill of the male is pure white, in
268
TURKEY VULTURE.
some specimens the upper mandible is tipt with black. There is
little or no other perceptible difference between the sexes.
The bird from which the foregoing description was taken,
was shot for this work, at Great Egg-harbour, the thirtieth of Janu-
ary. It was a female, in perfect plumage, excessively fat, and
weighed five pounds one ounce, avoirdupois. On dissection, it
emitted a slight musky odour.
The Vulture is included in the catalogue of those fowls de-
clared unclean and an abomination by the Levitical constitution,
and which the Israelites were interdicted eating* We presume
that this prohibition was religiously observed, so far at least as it
related to the whole family of the Vultures, from whose flesh there
arises such an unsavory odour, that we question if all the sweeten-
ing processes ever invented could render it palatable to a Jew, Pa-
gan, or Christian.
Temminck, and some recent ornithologists, have separated
our Vultures from the genus Vultiir, and have classed them under
the genus Cathartes of Illiger. It should seem that there is a pro-
priety in this arrangement ; but as Wilson published, in his sixth
volume, the catalogue of his land birds, adopting the genus Vultur,
as sanctioned by Latham, we have not thought proper, in this in-
stance, to deviate from his plan.
^ Leviticus, xi, 14, Deuteronomy, xiv, 13.
269
BLACK VULTURE, OR CARRION-CROW.
VULTUR JOTA.
[Plate LXXV.— Fig. 2.]
Vultur jota^ Gmel. Syst, 1,/). 247. — Molina, HisU Chili, 1, p. 185, Am* trans* — Zopilot,
Clavicero,/^^?. Mex* 1, />. 47. Eng. trans. — Gallinazo, Ulloa, Voy. \,p. 52, Amster-
dam ed. — Vultur atratus^ Bartram, p. 289. — Vautour du Brtsil, PI. enl. 187. — Vultur
aura, B. — Lath. Ind. Om. p, 5. — Lc Vautour urubu, Vieil. Ois. de VAm, Sep, 1,/), 23,
pi. 2. — Peale’s Museum, No. 13,
THE habits of both the Vultures figured in this volume are
singular. In the towns and villages of the southern states, particu-
larly Charleston and Georgetown, South Carolina, and in Savannah,
Georgia, these birds may be seen either sauntering about the streets ;
sunning themselves on the roofs of the houses, and the fences \ or,
if the weather be cold, cowering around the tops of the chimneys,
to enjoy the benefit of the heat, which to them is a peculiar gratifi-
cation. They are protected by a law ; and may be said to be
completely domesticated, being as common as the poultry, and
equally familiar. The inhabitants, generally, are disgusted with
their filthy, voracious habits ; but notwithstanding, being viewed
as contributive to the removal of the dead animal matter, which,
if permitted to putrefy during the hot season, would render the at-
mosphere impure, they have a respect paid them as scavengers,
whose labours are subservient to the public good,. It sometimes
happens that, after having gorged themselves, they vomit down the
chimneys, which must be intolerably disgusting, and must provoke
the ill will of those whose hospitality is thus requited. To obviate
this evil, the chimney tops of some houses are furnished with rows
of spikes, others are capped, or provided with some apparatus to
hinder the birds from alighting upon them.
3 Y
VOL. IX.
270
BLACK VULTURE.
The Black Vultures are indolent, and may be observed, in com-
panies, loitering for hours together in one place. They are much
darker in their plumage than the Turkey-buzzard. Their mode of
flight also varies from that of the latter. The Black Vulture flaps
its wings five or six times rapidly, then sails with them extended
nearly horizontally ; the Turkey-buzzard seldom flaps its wings,
and when sailing, they form an upward angle with the body. The
latter is not so impatient of cold as the former, and is likewise less
lazy. The Black Vulture, when walking at leisure upon the ground,
takes great strides — when hurried, he runs and jumps awkwardly j
the Turkey-buzzard, though seemingly inactive, moves with an
even gait. The former, when springing from the ground, will some-
times make a noise exactly resembling the grunt of a pig.
I had been informed, previous to my visit to Georgia, by both
William Bartram, and Mr. John Abbot, that the two species did
not associate, but I soon discovered that this information was erro-
neous. I took notice that both of these birds mixed together upon
the chimney tops, and the roofs of the houses, and sometimes in
the streets ; they were equally unsuspicious and tame. It would
appear, however, that there are certain districts which are affected
by each kind. In the yard of the hotel where I resided, in the
town of Savannah, I daily observed numbers of Carrion-crows, un-
accompanied by a single Turkey-buzzard. The latter, unless
pressed by hunger, will not eat of a carcass until it becomes pu-
trid ; the former is not so fastidious, but devours animal food with-
out distinction. Perhaps this may be the reason why the Carrion-
crows alone frequent the yards where servants are in the habit of
throwing out animal offals. In the fields, wherever there is a pu-
trid carcass, there will be seen swarms of Turkey-buzzard^
It is said that the Black Vultures sometimes attack young
pigs, and eat off their ears and tails ; and we have even heard sto-
ries of their assaulting feeble calves, and picking out their eyes.
But these instances are rare ; if otherwise, they would not receive
BLACK VULTURE,
271
that countenance or protection which is so universally extended to
them, in the states of South Carolina and Georgia, where they
abound.
In one of Wilson’s journals I find an interesting detail of the
greedy and disgusting habits of this species ; and shall give the
passage entire, in the same unadorned manner in which it is
written.
“February 21, 1809. Went out to Hampstead* this fore-
noon. A horse had dropped down in the street, in convulsions ;
and dying, it was dragged out to Hampstead and skinned. The
ground, for a hundred yards around it, was black with Carrion-
crows ; many sat on the tops of sheds, fences, and houses within
sight; sixty or eighty on the opposite side of a small stream. I
counted at one time two hundred and thirty-seven, but I believe
there were more, besides several in the air over my head, and at a
distance. I ventured, cautiously, within thirty yards of the car-
cass, where three or four dogs, and twenty or thirty Vultures, were
busily tearing and devouring. Seeing them take no notice, I ven-
tured nearer, till I was within ten yards, and sat down on the bank.
Still they paid little attention to me. The dogs being sometimes
accidentally flapped with the wings of the Vultures, would growl
and snap at them, which would occasion them to spring up for a
moment, but they immediately gathered in again. I remarked
the Vultures frequently attack each other, fighting with their claws
or heels, striking like a cock, with open wings, and fixing their
claws in each other’s head. The females, and I believe the males
likewise, made a hissing sound, with open mouthj exactly resem-
bling that produced by thrusting a red hot poker into water ; and
frequently a snuffling, like a dog clearing his nostrils, as I suppose
they were theirs. On observing that they did not heed me, I stole
so close that my feet were within one yard of the horse’s legs, and
^ Near Charleston, South Carolina.
272
BLACK VULTURE.
again sat down. They all slid aloof a few feet ; but seeing me
quiet, they soon returned as before. As they were often disturbed
by the dogs, I ordered the latter home : my voice gave no alarm
to the Vultures. As soon as the dogs departed, the Vultures
crowded in such numbers, that I counted at one time thirty-seven
on and around the carcass, with several within ; so that scarcely
an inch of it was visible. Sometimes one would come out with a
large piece of the entrails, which in a moment was surrounded by
several others, who tore it in fragments, and it soon disappeared.
They kept up the hissing occasionally. Some of them having
their whole legs and heads covered with blood, pi’esented a most
savage aspect. Still as the dogs advanced I would order them
away, which seemed to gratify the Vultures ; and one would pur-
sue another to within a foot or two of the spot where I was sitting.
Sometimes I observed them stretching their necks along the ground,
as if to press the food downwards.^'
The Carrion-crow is seldom found, on the Atlantic, to the
northward of Newbern, North Carolina, but inhabits, as far as we
can ascertain, the whole southern continent. Don Ulloa, in taking
notice of the birds of Carthagena, gives an account of a Vulture,
which we shall quote, in order to establish the opinion, advanced
in the preceding history, that it is the present species. We shall
afterwards subjoin other testimony in confirmation of this opinion.
With respect to the marvellous tale of their attacking the cattle in
the pastures, it is too improbable to merit a serious refutation ; and
it is to be regretted that Vieillot should have perpetuated this slan-
der, which is so absurd that we wonder how it could have escaped
his animadversion.
“ It would be too great an undertaking to describe, all the
extraordinary birds that inhabit this country ^ but I cannot refrain
from taking notice of that to which they give the name of Gallinazo,
from the resemblance it has to the Turkey-hen. This bird is of
the size of a Pea-hen, but its head and neck are something larger.
BLACK VULTURE.
273
From the crop to the base of the bill it has no feathers ; this space
is surrounded with a wrinkled and rough skin, which forms nume-
rous warts, and other similar inequalities. This skin is black, as is
the plumage of the bird, but usually of a brownish black. The
bill is well proportioned, strong, and a little hooked. These birds
are familiar in Carthagena, the tops of the houses are covered with
them ; it is they which cleanse the city of all its animal impurities.
There are few animals killed whereof they do not obtain the offals;
and when this food is wanting, they have recourse to other filth.
Their sense of smelling is so acute, that it enables them to trace
carrion at the distance of three or four leagues ; which they do not
abandon until there remains nothing but the skeleton.
The great number of these birds found in such hot climates,
is an excellent provision of nature ; as otherwise, the putrefaction
caused by the constant and excessive heat, would render the air
insupportable to human life. When first they take wing they fly
heavily ; but afterwards they rise so high as to be entirely invisi-
ble, On the ground they walk sluggishly. Their legs are well
proportioned ; they have three toes forward, turning inwards, and
one in the inside, inclining a little backwards, so that the feet in-
terfering, they cannot walk with any agility, but are obliged to hop;
each toe is furnished with a long and stout claw.
“ When the Gallinazos are deprived of carrion, or food in the
city, they are driven by hunger among the cattle of the pastures.
If they see a beast with a sore on the back, they alight on it, and
attack the part affected ; and it avails not that the poor animal
throws itself upon the ground, and endeavours to intimidate them
by its bellowing : they do not quit their hold! and by means of their
bill they so soon enlarge the wound, that the animal finally be-
comes their prey.”*
^ Voyage Historique De L’Amerique Meridionale, par Don George Juan, et Don An-
toine De Ulloa, liv. I, chap, viii, p. 52. A Amsterdam et a Leipzig, 1752, quarto.
3 Z
VOL. IX.
274
BLACK VULTURE.
The account, from the same author, of the beneficial effects
resulting from the fondness of the Vultures for the eggs of the alli-
gator, merits attention.
The Gallinazos are the most inveterate enemies of the alli-
gators, or rather they are extremely fond of their eggs ; and em-
ploy much stratagem to obtain them. During the summer, these
birds make it their business to watch the female alligators ; for it
is in that season that they deposite their eggs in the sand of the
shores of the rivers, which are not then overflowed. The Galli-
nazo conceals itself among the branches and leaves of a tree, so as
to be unperceived by the alligator, and permits the eggs quietly to
be laid, not even interrupting the precautions that she takes to
conceal them. But she is no sooner under the water, than the
Gallinazo darts upon the nest ; and with its bill, claws, and wings,
uncovers the eggs, and gobbles them down, leaving nothing but
the shells. This banquet would indeed richly reward its patience,
did not a multitude of Gallinazos join the fortunate discovei'er, and
share in the spoil.
“ How admirable the wisdom of that Providence, which hath
given to the male alligator an inclination to devour its own off-
spring ; and to the Gallinazo a taste for the eggs of the female.
Indeed neither the rivers, nor the neighbouring fields, would other-
wise be sufficient to contain the multitudes that are hatched ; for
notwithstanding the ravages of both these insatiable enemies, one
can hardly imagine the numbers that remain.^^*
The abbe Clavigero, in his History of Mexico, has clearly
indicated the present species, as distinguished from the Turkey-
buzzard.
The business of clearing the fields of Mexico, is reserved
principally for the Zopilots, known in South America by the name
of Gallinazzi ; in other places, by that of Jlure ; and in some places,
* Liv. iv, chap, ix, p. 172.
BLACK VULTURE.
275
though very improperly, by that of Ravens. There are two very
diflFerent species of these birds ; the one, the Zopilot, properly so
called, the other called the Cozcaquauhtli : they are both bigger
than the Raven. These two species resemble each other in their
hooked bill and crooked claws, and by having upon their head, in-
stead of feathers, a wi'inkled membrane with some curling hairs.
They fly so high, that although they are pretty large, they are lost
to the sight; and especially before a hail storm they will be seen
wheeling, in vast numbers, under the loftiest clouds, till they en-
tirely disappear. They feed upon carrion, which they discover by
the acuteness of their sight and smell, from the gi’eatest height, and
descend upon it with a majestic flight, in a great spiral course.
They are both almost mute. The two species are distinguished,
however, by their size, their colour, their numbers, and some other
peculiarities. The Zopilots, properly so called, have black fea-
thers, with a brown head, bill, and feet ; they go often in flocks,
and roost together upon trees. This species is very numerous, and
is to be found in all the difierent climates ; while on the contrary,
the Cozcaquauhtli is far from numerous, and is peculiar to the
warmer climates alone.* The latter bird is larger than the Zopi-
lot, has a red head and feet, with a beak of a deep red colour, ex-
cept towards its extremity, which is white. Its feathers are brown,
except upon the neck and parts about the breast, which are of a
reddish black. The wings are of an ash colour upon the inside,
and upon the outside are variegated with black and tawny.
“ The Cozcaquauhtli is called by the Mexicans, king of the
Zopilots ;f and they say, that when these two species happen to
meet together about the same carrion, the Zopilot hever begins to
eat till the Cozcaquauhtli has tasted it. The Zopilot is a most
useful bird to that country, for they not only clear the fields, but
* This is a mistake.
t This is the Vultur aura. The bird which now goes by the name of King of the Zopi-
lots, in New Spain, is the Vultur papa of Linn^us.
276
BLACK VULTURE.
attend the crocodiles and destroy the eggs which the females of
those dreadful amphibious animals leave in the sand, to be hatch-
ed by the heat of the sun. The destruction of such a bird ought
to be prohibited under severe penalties.”*
“Theyom (Vultur jota),” says the abbe Molina, “resembles
much the aura, a species of vulture, of which there is perhaps but
one variety. It is distinguished, however, by the beak, which is
grey with a black point. Notwithstanding the size of this bird,
which is nearly that of the Turkey, and its strong and crooked
talons, it attacks no other, but feeds principally upon carcasses and
reptiles. It is extremely indolent and will frequently remain for
a long time almost motionless, with its wings extended, sunning
itself upon the rocks, or the roofs of the houses. When in pain,
which is the only time that it is known to make any noise, it utters
a sharp cry like that of a rat ; and usually disgorges what it has
eaten. The flesh of this bird emits a fetid smell that is highly
offensive. The manner in which it builds its nest is perfectly cor-
respondent to its natural indolence ; it carelessly places between
rocks, or even upon the ground, a few dry leaves or feathers, upon
which it lays two eggs of a dirty white.”-]-
The Black Vulture is twenty-six inches in length, and four
feet eleven inches in extent j the bill is two inches and a half
long, of a pale horn colour as far as near an inch, the remainder,
with the head, and wrinkled skin of the neck, a dirty scurfy black ;
tongue similar to that of the Turkey-buzzard ; nostril an oblong
slit ; irides dark reddish hazel ; ears sublunate ; the throat is dash-
ed with yellow ochre in some specimens ; neck feathers below the
caruncled skin much inflated, and very thick j the general colour
of the plumage is a dull black, except the primaries, which are
whitish on the inside, and have four of their broadened edges
* Clavigero’s Mexico, translated by Cullen, vol. i, p. 47, London.
t Hist. Chili, Am. trans. i, p. 185.
BLACK VULTURE.
277
below of a drab, or dark cream colour, extending two inches, which
is seen only when the wing is unfolded, the shafts of the feathers
white on both sides ; the rest of the wing feathers dark on both
sides ; secondaries, scapulars and tail, with a slight coppery gloss ;
the wings when folded are about the length of the tail, the fifth
feather being the longest ; the secondaries are two inches shorter
than the tail, which is composed of twelve feathers, and slightly
forked, or nearly square ; the exterior feathers three quarters of
an inch longer than the rest ; the legs are of a dirty limy white,
three inches and a half in length, and, with the feet, are thick and
strong ; the middle toe, including the claw, is four inches long,
side toes two inches, and connected to the middle as far as the
first joint ; inner toe rather the shortest ; hind toe pointing inward;
claws strong, but not sharp like those of the Fa/co genus, middle
claw three quarters of an inch long ; the stomach is not lined with
hair as reported. When opened, this bird smells strongly of musk,
so much so as to be quite oflPensive. Sexes nearly alike.
Mr. Abbot informs me that the Carrion-crow builds its nest
in the large trees of the low wet swamps, to which places they re-
tire every evening to roost. “ They frequent,” says he, “ that
part of the town of Savannah where the hog-butchers reside, and
walk about the streets, in great numbers, like domestic fowls. It
is diverting to see, when the entrails and offals of the hogs are
thrown to them, with what greediness they scramble for the food,
seizing upon it and pulling one against another until the strongest
prevails. The Turkey-buzzard is accused of killing young lambs
and pigs, by picking out their eyes, but I believe that the Carrion-
crow is not guilty of the like practices.” When taken alive this
bird bites excessively hard, and its bill, which is very sharp on its
edges, is capable of inflicting severe wounds, as I myself expe-
rienced.
4 A
VOI,. IX.
278
BLACK VULTURE.
It is really astonishing that the European naturalists should
have so long overlooked the difference that there is between this
species and the Turkey-buzzard, in their external conformation.
Their heads are differently shaped ; their bills and nostrils are con-
siderably unlike ; and the arrangement of the neck plumage is en-
tirely dissimilar, as our figures will show. The Turkey-buzzard’s
neck, along the oesophagus, as far as the breast bone, is bare of
feathers, though this nakedness is concealed by the adjacent plu-
mage; the same part in the Carrion-crow is completely clothed.
The down of both species has the same cottony appearance.
The drab colour on the primaries is not visible when the wing
is spread naturally, consequently the marking on the wing of our
figure is incorrect.
In the month of December, 1815, a solitary individual of this
species made its appearance in Philadelphia. This visiter, as may
be presumed, occasioned not a little surprise. It was shot with an
air rifle, while perched upon the chimney of a large house in Ches-
nut street. This bird was put into my hands for examination, and
from the appearance of its plumage, I had reason to conjecture that
it had escaped from confinement.
From Vieillot’s figure and description of the Black Vulture,
we must conclude that he had never seen it, either alive, or in a
recent state, otherwise he would not have committed the egregious
error of representing the naked skin of the bill, head and neck, of
a blood redy when these parts are of a dirty, scurfy black colour, re-
sembling the skin of a dirty negro.
279
RAVEN.
CORVUS CORAX.
[Plate LXXV.— Fig. 3.]
Gmel. Syst. 1, p. 364. — Ind, Om. p. 150. — Le Corbeau, Briss. 2, p. 8, et z;ar.— Buff. Ois.
3,j&. 13. PLenl. 495.— Temm. Man. d^Orn.p. \Qn.— Raven, Lath. Gen. Syn. l,/».
367. Id. sup. p. 74. — Penn. Brit. Zool. No. 74. Arct. Zool. No. 134. — Shaw, Gen.
Zool 7, p. 341. — Bewick, 1, /». 100. — Low, Fauna Oreaden^s^ p. 45. — Peale’s
Museum^ No. 175.
A KNOWLEDGE of this celebrated bird has been handed
down to us from the earliest ages; and its history is almost coeval
with that of man. In the best and most ancient of all books, we
learn that at the end of forty days after the great flood had covered
the earth, Noah, wishing to ascertain whether or not the waters
had abated, sent forth a Raven, which did not return into the ark.*
This is the first notice that is taken of this species. Though the
Raven was declared unclean by the law of Moses, yet we are in-
formed that when the prophet Elijah provoked the enmity of Ahab,
by prophesying against him, and hid himself by the brook Cherith,
the Ravens were appointed by Heaven to bring him his daily food.f
The colour of the Raven gave rise to a similitude in one of the
most beautiful of eclogues, which has been perpetuated in all sub-
sequent ages, and which is not less pleasing for being trite or pro-
verbial. The favourite of the royal lover of Jerusalem, in the en-
thusiasm of affection, thus describes the object of her adoration, in
reply to the following question :
What is thy beloved more than another beloved,
O thou fairest among women
* Genesis, viii, 7.
t 1 Kings, xvii, 5, 6.
280
RAVEN.
“ My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among
ten thousand. His head is as the most fine gold,
his locks are bushy, and black as a Raven !”*
The above mentioned circumstances taken into consideration,
one should suppose that the lot of the subject of this chapter would
have been of a different complexion from what history and tradi-
tion inform us is the fact. But in every country we are told the
Raven is considered an ominous bird, whose croakings foretell ap-
proaching evil ; and many a crooked beldam has given interpreta-
tion to these oracles, of a nature to infuse terror into a whole com-
munity. Hence this ill-fated bird, immemorially, has been the in-
nocent subject of vulgar obloquy and detestation.
Augury, or the art of foretelling future events by the flight,
cries, or motions of birds, descended from the Chaldeans to the
Greeks, thence to the Etrurians, and from them it was transmitted
to the Romans. f The crafty legislators of these celebrated nations,
from a deep knowledge of human nature, made superstition a prin-
cipal feature of their religious ceremonies ; well knowing that it
required a more than ordinary policy to govern a multitude, ever
liable to the fatal influences of passion ; and who without some
timely restraints would burst forth like a torrent, whose course is
marked by wide-spreading desolation. Hence to the purposes of
polity the Raven was made subservient ; and the Romans having
* Song of Solomon, v, 9, 10, 11.
f That the science of augury is very ancient, we learn from the Hebrew lawgiver, who
prohibits it, as well as every other kind of divination. Deut. chap, xviii. The Romans derived
their knowledge of augury chiefly from the Tuscans or Etrurians, who practised it in the earliest
times. This art was known in Italy before the time of Romulus, since that prince did not
commence the building of Rome till he had taken the auguries. The successors of Romulus,
from a conviction of the usefulness of the science, and at the same time not to render it con-
temptible by becoming too familiar, employed the most skilful augurs from Etruria to intro-
duce the practice of it into their religious ceremonies. And by a decree of the senate, some of
the youth of the best families in Rome were annually sent into Tuscany to be instructed in this
art. Vide Ciceron, de Divin. Also Calmet, and the abb6 Banier.
RAVEN.
281
consecrated it to Apollo, as to the god of divination, its flight was
observed with the greatest solemnity ; and its tones and inflections
of voice were noted with a precision which intimated a belief in its
infallible prescience.
But the ancients have not been the only people infected with
this species of superstition ; the moderns, even though favoured
with the light of Christianity, have exhibited as much folly, through
the impious curiosity of prying into futurity, as the Romans them-
selves. It is true that modern nations have not instituted their
sacred colleges or sacerdotal orders, for the purposes of divination;
but in all countries there have been self-constituted augurs, whose
interpretations of omens have been received with religious respect
by the credulous multitude. Even at this moment, in some parts
of the world, if a Raven alight on a village church, the whole fra-
ternity is in an uproar ; and Heaven is importuned, in all the ar-
dour of devotion, to avert the impending calamity.
The poets have taken advantage of this weakness of human
nature, and in their hands the Raven is a fit instrument of terror.
Shakspeare puts the following malediction into the mouth of his
Caliban :
“ As wicked dew, as e’er my mother brush’d,
With Raveris feather, from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both !”*
The ferocious wife of Macbeth, on being advised of the ap-
proach of Duncan, whose death she had conspired, thus exclaims ;
“ The Raven himself is hoarse.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements !”f
^ Tempest, act i, scene 2, t Act i, scene 5,
4 B
VOL. IX.
282
RAVEN.
The Moor of Venice says :
It comes o’er my memory.
As doth the Raven o’er the infected house.
Boding to all.”*
The last quotation alludes to the supposed habit of this bird’s
flying over those houses which contain the sick, whose dissolution
is at hand, and thereby announced. Thus Marlowe, in the Jew of
Malta, as cited by Malone :
“ The sad presaging Raven tolls
The sick man’s passport in her hollow beak.
And in the shadow of the silent night
Doth shake contagion from her sable wing.”
But it is the province of philosophy to dispel those illusions
which bewilder the mind, by pointing out the simple truths which
Nature has been at no pains to conceal, but which the folly of
mankind has shrouded in all the obscurity of mystery.
The Raven is a general inhabitant of the United States, but
is more common in the interior. On the lakes, and particularly in
the neighbourhood of the Falls of the river Niagara, they are nu-
merous ; and it is a remarkable fact, that where they so abound,
the Common Crow, C. corone, seldom make its appearance ; being
intimidated, it is conjectured, by the superior size and strength of
the former, or by an antipathy which the two species manifest to-
wards each other. This I had an opportunity of observing myself,
in a journey during the months of August and September, along
the lakes Erie and Ontario. The Ravens were seen every day,
prowling about in search of the dead fish which the waves are
Othello, act iv, scene 1.
RAVEN.
283
continually casting ashore, and which afford them an abundance of
a favourite food ; but I did not see or hear a single Crow within
several miles of the lakes ; and but very few through the whole of
the Gennesee country.
The food of this species is dead animal matter of all kinds,
not excepting the most putrid carrion, which it devours in common
with the Vultures ; worms, grubs, reptiles and shell-fish, the last
of which, in the manner of the Crow, it drops from a considerable
height in the air on the rocks, in order to break the shells ; it is
fond of birds’ eggs, and is often observed sneaking around the farm
house in search of the eggs of the domestic poultry, which it sucks
with eagerness ; it is likewise charged with destroying young ducks
and chickens, and lambs which have been yeaned in a sickly state.
The Raven, it is said, follows the hunters of deer for the purpose
of falling heir to the offal and the huntsmen are obliged to cover
their game, when it is left in the woods, with their hunting frocks,
to protect it from this thievish connoisseur, who, if he have an op-
portunity, will attack the region of the kidneys, and mangle the
saddle without ceremony.
Buffon says that the Raven plucks out the eyes of Buffaloes,
and then, fixing on the back, it tears off the flesh deliberately ; and
what renders the ferocity more detestable, it is not incited by the
cravings of hunger, but by the appetite for carnage ; for it can
subsist on fruits, seed of all kinds, and indeed may be considered
as an omnivorous animal.” This is mere fable, and of a piece
with many other absurdities of the same agreeable but fanciful
author.
This species is found almost all over the habitable globe.
We trace it in the north from Norway to Greenland, and hear of
it in Kamtschatka. It is common every where in Russia and Si-
* This is the case in those parts of the United States where the deer are hunted without
dogs : where these are employed, they are generally rewarded with the offal.
284
RAVEN.
beria, except within the Arctic circle and all through Europe.
Kolben enumerates the Raven among the birds of the Cape of
Good Hope De Grandpre represents it as numerous in Bengal,
where they are said to be protected for their usefulness ;t and the
unfortunate La Perouse saw them at Saie de Castries, on the east
coast of Tartary; likewise at Port des Francois, 58 37 north lati-
tude, and 139 50 west longitude; and at Monterey Bay, north
California.^ The English circumnavigators met with them at
Nootka Sound ;ll and at the Sandwich Islands, two being seen in
the village of Kakooa ; also at Owhyhee, and supposed to be adored
there, as they were called Eatoos.T^ Our intrepid American tra-
vellers, under the command of Lewis and Clark, shortly after they
embarked on the river Columbia, saw abundance of Ravens, which
were attracted thither by the immense quantity of dead salmon
which lined the shores.** They are found at all seasons at Hud-
son’s Bay ;tt are frequent in Mexico and it is more than probable
that they inhabit the whole continent of America.
The Raven measures from the tip of the bill to the end of
the tail twenty-six inches, and is four feet in extent ; the bill is
large and strong, of a shining black, notched near the tip, and
three inches long, the setaceous feathers which cover the nostrils
extend half its length ; the eyes are black ; the general colour is a
deep glossy black, with steel-blue reflections ; the lower parts are
less glossy; the tail is rounded, and extends about two inches be-
yond the wings ; the legs are two inches and a half in length, and,
with the feet, are strong and black ; the claws are long.
^ Latham, f Medley’s Kolben, vol. ii, p. 136.
J Voy. in the Indian Ocean, p. 148.
^ Voy. par I. F. G. De la Perouse, ii, p. 129, 203, 443.
II Cook’s last voy. ii, p. 236. Am, cd. If Idem, iii, p. 329,
Gass’s Journal, p. 153.^ ft Charlevoix. Kalm. Hearne’s Journey.
Xt Fernandez.
RAVEN.
285
This bird is said to attain to a great age ; and its plumage to
be subject to change from the influence of years and of climate.
It is found in Iceland and Greenland entirely white.
The Raven was the constant attendant of Lewis and Clark’s
party in their long and toilsome journey. During the winter, at
Fort Mandan, they were observed in immense numbers, notwith-
standing the cold was so excessive, that on the seventeenth of De-
cember, 1804, the thermometer of Fahrenheit stood at 45 below 0.
Like the Crow, this species may be easily domesticated, and
in that state would afford amusement by its familiarity, frolics and
sagacity. But such noisy and mischievous pets, in common with
Parrots and Monkeys, are not held in high estimation in this quar-
ter of the globe ; and are generally overlooked for those universal
favourites, which either gratify the eye by the neatness or brilliancy
of their plumage, or delight the ear by the simplicity or variety
of their song.
4 C
VOL. IX.
286
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
FJILCO PEMEGRINUS.
[Plate LXXVI.— Female.]
Falco peregrinuSy Gmel* SysU 1, p, 272, 88. — Briss. \^p» 341, 6, andVar, A, — Ind, Orn,
p. 33, No. 72. — Falco Barharusy Lin. Syst. ed. 10, tom. l,/>. 88, No, 6.— Gmel. SysU
1, p. 272, 8. — Ind. Om. p. 33, No, 71. — Falco kornotinusy Briss. 1, p, 324, A, Falco
nigefy Id. p, 327, E. Falco maculatusy Id. p, 329, F. — Peregrine Falcony Lath. Syn,
\y p. 73, No. 52, Id. sup. p, 18. — Penn. Brit. Zool. No. 48, pi. 20. Arct, Zool. No.
97. — Shaw, Gen, Zoohvol. 7yp. 128.--Montagu, Om, Die, and Sup. — Low, Fauna
Orcadenshy p. 150. — Common Falcony Lath, Syn, 1, p. 65, No. 49, var, A. p. 67, var,
E. p. 68. var, F. — Spotted Hawk or Falcony Edwards, 1, pi. 3. Black Hawk or FaU
cony Id. pi. 4, both from Hudsm^s Bay. — Le Laniery PL enl. 430, old male. Le Fau-
con noir et passageTy Id. 469, young female? Le Faucon sorsy Id. p. 470, yearling, —
Faucon p'^leritiy Temm, Man. d'Om, p. 22. — Peale’s Museumy No. ^Z^y female,
IT is with great pleasure that we are now enabled to give a
portrait of this celebrated Falcon, drawn of half the size of life, in
the best manner of our deceased friend; and engraved by the ac-
curate and ingenious Lawson.
This noble bird had excited our curiosity for a long time.
Every visit which we made to the coast, was rendered doubly in-
teresting by the wonderful stories which we heard of its exploits
in fowling, and of its daring enterprise. There was not a shooter
along the shore but knew it well ; and each could relate something
of it which bordered on the marvellous. It was described as dart-
ing with the rapidity of an arrow upon the ducks when on the wing,
and striking them down with the projecting bone of its breast.
Even the Wild Geese were said to be in danger from its attacks,
it having been known to sacrifice them to its rapacity.
To behold this hero, the terror of the wild fowl, and the
wonder of the sportsmen, was the chief object of our wishes. Day
’'4*< >'. . .^ftfiHft' ;t ^ /
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
287
after day did we traverse the salt marshes, and explore the ponds
and estuaries, where the web-footed tribes assemble in immense
multitudes, in the hope of obtaining the imperial depredator ;
even all the shooters of the district were summoned to our aid,
with the assurance of a great reward if they procured him, but
without success. At length in the month of December, 1812, to
the unspeakable joy of Wilson, he received from Egg-harbour a
fine specimen of the far-famed Duck Hawk ; which was discovered,
contrary to his expectations, to be of a species which he had never
before beheld.
If we were to repeat all the anecdotes which have been related
to us of the achievements of the Duck Hawk, they would swell our
pages at the expense, probably, of our reputation. Naturalists
should be always on their guard when they find themselves com-
pelled to resort to the observations of others, and record nothing
as fact which has not been submitted to the temperate delibera-
tions of reason. The neglect of this procedure has been a princi-
pal cause why errors and absurdities have so frequently deformed
the pages of works of science, which, like a plane mirror, ought to
refipct only the true images of nature.
From the best sources of information, we learn that this spe-
cies is adventurous and powerful ; that it darts upon its prey with
astonishing velocity ; and that it strikes with its formidable feet,
permitting the duck to fall previous to securing it. The circum-
stance of the Hawk’s never carrying the duck off on striking it,
has given rise to the belief of that service being performed by
means of the breast, which vulgar opinion has armed with a pro-
jecting bone, adapted to the purpose. But this cannot he the fact,
as the breast bone of this bird does not differ from that of others
of the same tribe, which would not admit of so violent a concus-
sion.
When the water fowl perceive the approach of their enemy,
a universal alarm pervades their ranks ; even man himself, with
288
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
his engine of destruction, is not more terrible. But the effect is
different. When the latter is beheld, the whole atmosphere is
enlivened with the whistling of wings ; when the former is recog-
nised, not a duck is to be seen in the air : they all speed to the
water, and there remain until the Hawk has passed them, diving
the moment he comes near them. It is worthy of remark that
he will seldom, if ever, strike over the water, unless it be frozen ;
well knowing that it will be difficult to secure his quarry. This is
something more than instinct.
When the sportsmen perceive the Hawk knock down a duck,
they frequently disappoint him of it, by being first to secure it.
And as one evil turn, according to the maxim of the multitude, de-
serves another, our hero takes ample revenge on them, at every
opportunity, by robbing them of their game, the hard-earned fruits
of their labour.
The Duck Hawk, it is said, often follows the steps of the
shooter, knowing that the ducks will be aroused on the wing, which
will afford it an almost certain chance of success.
We have been informed that those ducks which are struck
down, have their backs lacerated from the rump to the neck. If
this be the fact, it is a proof that the Hawk employs only its talons,
which are long and stout, in the operation. One respectable in-
habitant of Cape May told us, that he had seen the Hawk strike
from below.
This species has been long known in Europe ; and, in the
age of Falconry, was greatly valued for those qualifications which
rendered it estimable to the lovers and followers of that princely
amusement. But we have strong objections to its specific appel-
lation. The epithet peregrine is certainly not applicable to our
Hawk, which is not migratory, as far as our most diligent inqui-
ries can ascertain ; and as additional evidence of the fact, we our-
selves have seen it prowling near the coast of Newjersey in the
month of May, and heard its screams, which resemble somewhat
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
289
those of the Bald Eagle, in the swamps wherein it is said to breed.
We have therefore taken the liberty of changing its English name
for one which will at once express a characteristic designation, or
which will indicate the species without the labour of investigation.*
“ This species,” says Pennant, “ breeds on the rocks of Llan-
didno, in Caernarvonshire, Wales. That promontory has been
long famed for producing a generous kind, as appears by a letter
extant in Gloddaeth library, from the lord treasurer Burleigh to
an ancestor of Sir Roger Mostyn, in which his lordship thanks
him for a present of a fine cast of Hawks taken on those rocks,
which belong to the family. They are also very common in the
north of Scotland; and are sometimes trained for falconry by
some few gentlemen who still take delight in this amusement in
that part of Great Britain. Their flight is amazing rapid ; one
that was reclaimed by a gentleman in the Shire of Angus, a county
on the east side of Scotland, eloped from its master with two
heavy bells attached to each foot, on the twenty-fourth of Septem-
ber, 1772, and was killed in the morning of the twenty-sixth, near
Mostyn, riintshire.”f
The same naturalist in another place observes, that “ the
American species is larger than the European.^ They are subject
to vary. The Black Falcon, and the Spotted Falcon, of Edwards
are of this kind; each preserves a specific mark, in the black
stroke which drops from beneath the eyes, down towards the neck.
“ Inhabits diflerent parts of North America, from Hudson’s
Bay as low as Carolina. In Asia, is found on the highest parts of
the Uralian and Siberian chain. Wanders in summer to the very
Arctic circle. Is common in Kamtschatka. ^
* “ Specific names, to be perfect, ought to express some peculiarity, common to no other
of the genus.” Am. Orn. i, p. 65.
t British Zoology. , ,, •
5 If we were to adopt the mode of philosophizing of the Count de Bufibn, we should m-
fer that the European species is « variety of our more generous race, degenerated by the tnfiu-
enee of food and climate ! ^ Arctic Zoology.
VOL. IX. ^ ^
290
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
Low says that this species is found in all the head-lands, and
other inaccessible rocks, of Orkney. “ It is the falcon, or moi e
noble species of bawk, which was formerly so much coveted, and
brought from Orkney. In the Burgh of Birsa I observed the dark-
coloured kind, so beautifully engraved in the additional volume of
the British Zoology. It is likewise found in Marwick-head, Hoy,
Walls, Copinsha, and elsewhere in Orkney ; likewise in the Fair
Isle and Foula ; as also in Lamhoga of Fetlor, Fitful, and Sum-
burgh-Heads of Shetland.
“ Never more than one pair of this species inhabit the same
rock ; and when the young are fit, they are driven out to seek new
habitations for themselves. The falcon’s nest, like the Eagle’s, is
always in the very same spot, and continues so past memory of
man.”*
In the breeding season the Duck Hawk retires to the recesses
of the gloomy cedar swamps, on the tall trees of which it con-
structs its nest, and rears its young, secure from all molestation.
In those wilds, which present obstacles almost insuperable to the
foot of man, the screams of this bird, occasionally mingled with
the hoarse tones of the Heron, and the hootings of the Great-horned
Owl, echoing through the dreary solitude, arouse in the imagina-
tion all the frightful imagery of desolation. Wilson and the writer
of this article explored two of these swamps in the month of May,
1813, in pursuit of the Great Heron, and the subject of this chap-
ter ; and although they were successful in obtaining the former,
yet the latter eluded their research.
The Great-footed Hawk is twenty inches in length, and three
feet eight inches in breadth ; the bill is inflated, short and strong,
of a light blue colour, ending in black, the upper mandible with a
tooth-like process, the lower with a corresponding notch, and trun-
cate ; nostrils round, with a central point like the pistil of a flower ;
* Low’s Natural History of the Quadrupeds, Birds, Reptiles, and Fishes, of Orkney and
Shetland; published by William Elford Leach, M. D., 4to. 1813.
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
291
the eyes are large, irides of a dark brown ; cere and orbits pale
bluish white ; the cartilage over the eyes prominent ; frontlet
whitish ; the head above, cheeks and back, are black ; the wings
and scapulars are brownish black, each feather edged with paler,
the former long and pointed, reaching almost to the end of the
tail ; the primaries and secondaries are marked transversely, on
the inner vanes, with large oblong spots of ferruginous white ; the
exterior edge of the tip of the secondaries curiously scalloped, as
if a piece had been cut out ; the tertials incline to ash colour ; the
lining of the wings is beautifully barred with black and white, and
tinged with ferruginous ; on a close examination, the scapulars and
tertials are found to be barred with faint ash ; all the shafts are
black ; the rump and tail-coverts are light ash, marked with large
dusky bars ; the tail is rounding, black, tipped with reddish white,
and crossed with eight narrow bars of very faint ash ; the chin and
breast, encircling the black mustaches, are of a pale buff colour ;
breast below, and lower parts, reddish buff, or pale cinnamon,
handsomely marked with roundish or heart shaped spots of black ;
sides broadly barred with black ; the feinorals are elegantly orna-
mented with herring-bones of black on a buff ground ; the vent is
pale buff, marked as the femorals, though with less numerous spots;
the feet and legs are of a dirty white, stained with yellow ochre,
the legs short and stout, feathered a little below the knees, the
bare part one inch in length ; span of the foot five inches, with a
large protuberant sole ; middle toe as long as the tarsus ; the claws
are large and black, middle one three quarters of an inch long,
hind claw seven-eighths of an inch.
The most striking characters of this species are the broad
patch of black dropping below the eye, and the uncommonly large
feet. It is stout, heavy, and firmly put together.
The bird from which the above description was taken, was
shot in a cedar swamp in Cape May county, Newjersey. It was
a female, and contained the remains of small birds, among which
292
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
were discovered the legs of the Sanderling. The figure in the
plate is an excellent resemblance of the original, which is hand-
somely set up in the Philadelphia Museum.
I am indebted to my friend, Mr. Titian Peale, for tbe view of
an immature specimen of the Duck Hawk, which he shot near the
Rocky Mountains ; it was quite young, having just left the nest.
Its colours were prineipally a dirty white, and a reddish brown ;
the pateh below the eye not very conspicuous ; but the characters
of the bill and feet proved the species.
According to Temminck, the Peregrine Falcon never inhabits
marshy countries ; but this, I presume, is a mistake, as our bird is
remarkable for its attachment to those places which are affected by
the water fowl, and it is well known that the latter abound in all
the marshes of the coast.
In the month of November, 1823, I procured a fine living
specimen of the Duck Hawk, which I preserved, with the view of
noting its change of plumage. It was a female, and was allowed
the free range of a stable and garden. Notwithstanding my care,
it lived but nine months. On dissection, I found her eggs very
small, although she had every appearance of being an adult.
Around the base of the heart, and near the ovaries, I discovered
two or three round worms, of about nine inches in length.
During the time that she was in my possession she did not
moult ; and the change in the colour of the plumage was but slight.
In winter, the upper parts were dark brown, but in the summer
there was an appearance of ash colour on the back and wing-co-
verts. The fact, that the plumage of birds undergoes a change of
colour, independent of moulting, appears to be now well ascprtain-
ed ; and it is with pleasure that I can add my testimony, on this
subject, to the sensible “ Remarks on the Changes of the Plumage
of Birds,” which were published in the twelfth volume of the Trans-
actions of the Linnean Society of London. The paper in question
was written by the Rev. William Whitear.
GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.
293
My Duck Hawk never became sufficiently domesticated to
permit one to handle her ; and if an attempt were made to touch
her, she would either hop away in anger, or, if prevented from re-
treating, she would spring upon one, and strike, furiously, with one
of her powerful feet, which were capable of inflicting severe wounds.
Unless when very hungry, she would not touch cooked food; she
preferred fresh killed meat, especially tender beef and mutton,
generally rejecting the fat. She was fond of small birds, but a live
duck was her supreme delight : the sight of one would make her
almost frantic; at such times the vigour and activity of her move-
ments, and the animation of her eye, were truly admirable. Her
antipathy to cats was great, and when one of these animals ap-
proached her, she manifested her displeasure by raising her plumes,
opening her mouth, and uttering some sounds, which were doubt-
less intended as a premonition of danger. If, regardless of all
these, the cat got within striking distance, one blow from the Hawk
was generally sufficient to compel the intruder to a hasty retreat.
4 K
VOL. IX.
294
LESSER RED-POLL.*
FRINGILLR LIJVAEM.
[Plate XXX.— Fig. 4.]
Friitgilla Linaria, Gmel. Syst. 1, p. 917, 29. F. Jtavirostris, Id. p. 915, 27.— Lath. Ind.
Orn. p. 438, No. 16, p. 458, No. 83. — Le Cabaret, Buff. Ois. 4, p. 76. PI. enl. 485.
Bewick, 1, p. \^\.— Fauna Orcadensis, p. 64, 3 — Gros-bec Sizerin, Temm. Man.
d'Orn, p. 373.
CONTRARY to the usual practice of Wilson, he omitted to
furnish a particular description of this species, accompanying its
figure in the fourth volume of the present work. But this supple-
mentary notice would not have been considered necessary, if our
author had not fallen into a mistake respecting the markings of the
female, and the young male ; the former of which he describes as
destitute of the crimson on the forehead; and the latter not receiving
that ornament till the succeeding spring. When Wilson procured
his specimens, it was in the autumn, previous to their receiving
their perfect winter dress ; and he was never afterwards aware of
his error, owing to the circumstance of these birds seldom appear-
ing in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia. Considerable flocks of
them, however, having visited us in the winter of 1813-14, we were
enabled to procure several fine specimens of both sexes, from the
most perfect of which we took the following description. We will
add, that having had the good fortune to observe a flock, consist-
ing of nearly a hundred, within a few feet of them, as they were
busily engaged in picking the seeds of some garden plants, we can
with confidence assert that they all had the red patch on the crown ;
but there were very few which had the red rump and breast ; the
^ See vol. iv of this work, p, 42.
LESSER RED-POLL.
295
young males, it is probable, are not thus marked until the spring ;
and the females are destitute of that ornament altogether.
The Lesser Red-poll is five inches and a quarter in length,
and eight inches and a half in breadth ; the bill is pale yellow,
ridged above and below with dark horn colour, the upper mandi-
ble projecting somewhat over the lower at the tip ; irides dark
hazel ; the nostrils are covered with recumbent, hair-like feathers
of drab colour ; a line of brown extends from the eyes, and encir-
cles the base of the bill, forming in some specimens a patch below
the chin ; the crown is ornamented with a pretty large spot of
deep shining crimson ; the throat, breast and rump, stained with
the same, but of a more delicate red ; the belly is of a very pale
ash, or dull white ; the sides are streaked with dusky ; the whole
upper parts are brown or dusky, the plumage edged with yellowish
white and pale ash, the latter most predominant near the rump;
wings and tail dusky, the latter is forked, and consists of twelve
feathers edged with white ; the primaries are very slightly tipped
and edged with white ; the secondaries more so ; the greater and
lesser coverts are also tipped with white, forming the bars across
the wings ; thighs cinereous ; legs and feet black ; hind claw con-
siderably hooked, and longer than the rest.
The female is less bright in her plumage above ; and her
under parts incline more to an ash colour ; the spot on her crown
is of a golden crimson, or reddish saffron.
One male specimen was considerably larger than the rest ;
it measured five inches and three quarters in length, and nine
inches and a quarter in breadth; the breast and rump were tawny;
its claws were uncommonly long, the hind one measured nearly
three eighths of an inch ; and the spot on the crown was of a
darker hue than that of the rest.
The call of this bird exactly resembles that of the Fringilki
tristis, or common Yellow-bird of Pennsylvania.
296
LESSER RED-POLL.
The Red-polls linger in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia
until about the middle of April ; but whither they retire for the
business of incubation, we cannot determine.
In common with almost all our Finches, the Red-polls become
very fat, and are then accounted delicious eating. During the win-
ter above-mentioned, many thousands of them were exposed to sale
in the Philadelphia market, and were readily purchased by those
epicures, whose love of variety permits no delicacy to escape them.
In America this species must breed far to the north, perhaps
beyond the residence of man, as they are so tame and unsuspicious
that one can openly approach to within five or six feet of them,
while they are occupied in feeding. As a proof of their rarity in
Pennsylvania, I have not observed them since the early part of the
year 1814; they were then so common that they swarmed in the
gardens of Philadelphia.
297
BALD EAGLE *
FJILCO LEUCOCEPHJILUS.
[Plate XXXVL]
Jigle a the bhnche, Temm. Man. d’Om. p. S2.—L'Mgle pygargue, Yieillot, Ois. de
I’Am. Sept. 1, p. 27, pi. 3.
IN Wilson’s history of the Bald Eagle, he confidently asserts
that it is the same species as the Sea Eagle, in a different stage of
colour. In his account of the latter, f he adduces additional reasons
for his belief, which is at variance with the opinions of some of the
most respectable naturalists of Europe. We have no hesitation,
from our own experience, in pronouncing these birds to be the
same ; and deem it unnecessary to add any thing further on the
subject, as the reasoning of Wilson is conclusive.
Our author, vol. vii, page 19, describes an Eagle’s nest, which
he visited, in company with the writer of this article, on the eigh-
teenth of May, 1812. It was then empty ; but from every appear-
ance a brood had been hatched and reared in it that season. The
following year, on the first day of March, a friend of ours took,
from the same nest three eggs, the largest of which measured three
inches and a quarter in length, two and a quarter in diameter, up-
wards of seven in circumference, and weighed four ounces five
drams apothecaries weight; the colour a dirty yellowish white —
one was of a very pale bluish white ; the young were perfectly
formed. Such was the solicitude of the female to preserve her
eo-o-s, that she did not abandon the nest until several blows, with
an axe, had been given the tree.
4 F
t Vol. vii, p. If).
VOL. IX.
* See vol. iv, p. 89.
298
BALD EAGLE.
In the History of Lewis and Clarkes Expedition, we find the
following account of an Eagle’s nest, which must have added not
a little to the picturesque effect of the magnificent scenery at the
Falls of the Missouri :
“Just below the upper pitch is a little island in the middle
of the river, well covered with timber. Here on a cottonwood tree
an Eagle had fixed its nest, and seemed the undisputed mistress
of a spot, to contest whose dominion neither man nor beast would
venture across the gulfs that surround it, and which is further se-
cured by the mist rising from the falls.”*
The Bald Eagle was observed by Lewis and Clark during
their whole route to the Pacific Ocean.
It may gratify some of our readers to be informed, that the
opinion of Temminck coincides with ours respecting the identity
of our Bald and Sea Eagles ; but he states that the Falco ossifragus
of Gmelin, the Sea Eagle of Latham, is the young of the Falco al-
bicilla, which, in its first year, so much resembles the yearling of
the leucocephahis, that it is very difficult to distinguish them.
^ Hist, of the Exped. vol. i, p. 264.
THE END.
GENERAL INDEX.*
VOL. PAGE
American Avoset
. . vii
132
Black-throated Bunting .
i
American Bittern . . . .
viii
35
Black-throated Green Warbler
. ii
American Buzzard
. . vi
78
Black Vulture ....
. ix
American Crossbill
. . iv
44
Blue-bill Duck . . . ■
viii
American Redstart
. . i
103
Blue-bird .....
. i
Young of ditto
. . V
119
Blue Crane . . : . •
. vii
American Sparrow Hawk .
. . ii
117
Blue-eyed Warbler
. ii
Male of ditto ...
. . iv
57
Blue-gray Flycatcher
. . ii
American Stilt
. . vii
52
Blue-green Warbler
. ill
American Tufted Duck
. . viii
61
Blue Grosbeak
. iii
American Widgeon
. . viii
91
Blue Jay
. i
Anhinga . . • •
Ash-coloured Hawk
Ash-coloured Sandpiper
Autumnal Warbler
Bald Eagle
Young of ditto
Nest of ditto
Bald-pate Duck
Baltimore Oriole
Female of ditto •
Bank Swallow
Barn Owl
Barn Swallow
Barred Owl
Bartram’s Sandpiper
Bay -breasted Warbler
Bay-winged Bunting
Belted Kingsfisher
Black and yellow Warbler
Black and white Creeper .
Black-billed Cuckoo
Black-bellied Plover
Young of ditto
Blackburnian Warbler
Black-capt Titmouse
Black Duck
Black Hawk
Young of ditto
Black-headed Gull
Black-poll Warbler .
Female of ditto
Black Skimmer
Black throated Blue Warbler
ix 244 Blue Linnet . •
vi 80 Blue-mouutain Warbler
VOL, PAGE
54
137
269
87
56
122
111
164
119
78
1 1
100
113
vii
36
Blue-winged Teal
. . viii
77
iii
65
Blue-winged Yellow Warbler
. . ii
109
iv
89
Blue Yellow-back Warbler
. . . iv
17
vii
16
Boblink ....
. . ii
48
ix
297
Brant ....
. . viii
145
viii
91
Broad-winged Hawk
. . vi
92
i
23
Brown Creeper
. . . i
122
vi
88
Brown-headed Nuthatch
. . ii
105
v
46
Brown Lark
. . V
89
vi
57
Brown Phalarope
ix
232
V
34
Buffel-headed Duck
. . . viii
51
iv
61
Butcher-bird
i
74
vii
67
Butter-box Duck
. . . viii
51
ii
97
Caerulean Warbler
. . ii
141
iv
51
Canada Flycatcher
. . . iii
100
iii
59
Canada Goose
. . viii
53
iii
63
Canada Jay
. . . iii
33
iii
23
Canvass-back Duck
. . viii
108
iv
16
Cape-May Warbler .
. . . vi
99
vii
42
Cardinal Grosbeak
ii
38
vii
75
Carolina Parrot . . '
. . . iii
89
iii
64
Carolina Pigeon .
. • V
91
i
134
Carrion-crow
. . ix
269
viii
155
Cat-bird
ii
90
vi
82
Cedar-bird, or Chatterer
. i
107
vi
84
Chat
. i
90
ix
257
Chewink
. . . ii
35
iv
40
Chesnul-sided Warbler
. ii
99
vi
101
Chimney Swallow
V
48
vii
89
Chipping Sparrow
. ii
127
ii
115
Chuck-will’s-widow
. . . vi
95
to the new edition of the 7th, 8th, and 9th vols.
INDEX.
VOL. PAGE VOL. PAGE
Cinereous Coot
. ix
225
Green Black-capt Flycatcher
iii
lOS
Clapper Rail
. vii
117
Green Heron
vii
102
Clark’s Crow
ill
29
Green White-bellied Swallow
V
44
Common Rail
vi
27
Green-winged Teal
viii
106
Connecticut Warbler
. V
64
Ground Dove
vi
IS
Cow Bunting
. ii
145
Grous .
iii
104
Crested Crow
. i
11
Hairy-head Merganser
viii
82
Crested Titmouse
L
137
Hairy Woodpecker
i
150
Crow
. iv
79
Hanging-bird
i
23
Crow Blackbird
iii
44
Harlequin Duck
viii
153
Curlew
viii
23
Hawk Owl
vi
64
Darter
. ix
244
Hemlock Warbler
V
114
Demi-Egret Heron
, viii
13
Hemp-bird
i
119
Diver
. ix
251
Hermit Thrush
V
95
Downy Woodpecker
. i
153
High-holder
i
45
Duck Hawk
. ix
286
Hooded Flycatcher
iii
101
Dunkadoo
viii
35
Hooded Merganser
viii
82
Dunlin
vii
25
Hooping Crane
viii
20
Dusky, or Black Duck
viii
155
Horse-foot Snipe .
vii
32
Eider Duck
. viii
132
House Wren
i
129
Female of ditto
viii
135
Humming-bird .
ii
26
English Snipe
vi
18
Jamaica Shoveller .
viii
138
Esquimaux Curlew
vii
22
Indigo-bird
i
100
Ferruginous Thrush
. ii
83
Ivory-billed Woodpecker
iv
20
Field Martin
. ii
66
Kentucky Warbler
iii
85
Field Sparrow
ii
121
Kildeer Plover
vii
77
Fish Crow
V
27
King-bird
ii
66
Fish Hawk
. V
13
Kingsfisher
iii
59
Flamingo
viii
45
Kite
iii
80
Flicker
. i
45
Laughing Gull
ix
257
Fly-up-the-creek
vii
102
Lawyer
vii
132
Fox-coloured Sparrow
. iii
53
Least Bittern
viii
37
French Mocking-bird
ii
83
Le Pape
iii
68
Gadwall Duck
. . viii
130
Lesser Red-poll
iv
42
Gallinule
. ix
230
Ditto
ix
294
Golden-crested Wren
i
126
Lesser Tera
vii
84
Golden-crowned Thrush
. ii
88
Lettuce-bird
i
20
Golden-eye Duck
viii
64
Lewis’s Woodpecker
iii
31
GoldBnch
i
20
Little Guillemot
ix
260
Golden-winged Warbler
ii
113
Little Owl
iv
66
Golden-winged Woodpecker
i
45
Little Sandpiper
V
32
Goosander
. viii
70
Little White Heron
vii
125
Female of ditto
. viii
74
Log-cock
iv
27
Grass Plover
. vii
67
Loggerhead Shrike
iii
57
Gray-back Sandpiper .
. vii
47
Long-billed Curlew
viii
23
Gray Eagle
. vii
16
Long-eared Owl
vi
73
Gray Phalarope
ix
237
Long-tailed Duck
viii
98
Great American Shrike
. i
74
Female of ditto
viii
101
Great Carolina Wren .
. ii
61
Loon
ix
251
Great-crested Flycatcher .
ii
75
Lord Duck .
viii
153
Great Egret Heron
. vii
1 1
Louisiana Heron
i
vii
102
Great-footed Hawk
. ix
286
Louisiana Tanager
iii
27
Great Heron
. viii
28
Magpie
iv
75
Great-horned Owl
. vi
52
Mallard
viii
121
Great Marbled Godwit
. vii
30
Marsh Blackbird
iv
30
Great Northern Diver
ix
251
Marsh Hawk
vi
67
Great Tem .
vii
80
Marsh Tern
viii
158
INDEX
Marsh Wren
VOL. PAGE
ii 58
Red-billed Rail
VOL.
vii
PAGE
114
Martin .
V
58
Red-bird
ii
38
Martinico Gallinule
ix
230
Red-breasted Merganser
viii
84
Maryland Yellow-throat
i
88
Red-breasted Sandpiper
vii
47
Female of ditto
ii
163
Red-breasted Snipe
vii
49
Meadow Lark .
iii
20
Red-breasted Thrush
i
35
Meadow Mouse
vi
59
Red-cockaded Woodpecker
ii
103
Mississippi Kite
iii
80
Red-eyed Flycatcher
ii
55
Mocking-bird
ii
13
Red Flamingo
viii
45
Mother Carey’s chicken
vii
94
Red-headed Duck
viii
119
Mottled Owl
iii
17
Red-headed Woodpecker
i
142
Mourning Warbler
ii
101
Red Owl
V
83
Mouse Hawk
vi
67
Red-poll Finch
iv
42
Mud-hen
vii
117
Red-shouldered Hawk
vi
86
Myrtle-bird
ii
138
Redstart
i
103
Nashville Warbler
iii
120
Young male of ditto .
V
1 19
Night-hawk
.
v
65
Red-tailed Hawk
vi
75
Night Heron
vii
106
Red-winged Starling
iv
30
Nonpareil .
iii
68
Reed-bird
ii
48
Northern Diver
ix
251
Rice Bunting
ii
48
Old-field Lark
iii
20
Ring Plover
vii
69
Old-wife Duck
viii
98
Ring-tailed Eagle
vii
13
Orchard Oriole
i
64
Robin . . , .
.
i
35
Osprey
V
13
Roseate Spoonbill
vii
129
Oyster-catcher
viii
15
Rose-breasted Grosbeak
ii
135
Painted Bunting
iii
68
Rough-legged Hawk
iv
59
Parrot
iii
89
Ruby-crowned Wren .
i
83
Partridge
vi
21
Ruby-throated Humming-bird
ii
26
Passenger Pigeon .
V
102
Ruddy Duck
viii
138
Peregrine Falcon
ix
286
Ruddy Plover
vii
135
Pewee Flycatcher .
ii
78
Ruffed Grous .
vi
45
Pheasant
vi
45
Rusty Grakle
iii
41
Pied Duck
viii
96
Sanderling
vii
72
Pied Oyster-catcher
viii
15
Sand Martin
v
46
Pigeon Hawk
ii
107
Sand-shoal Duck
viii
96
Pileated Woodpecker .
iv
27
Savannah Sparrow
iv
72
Pine-creeping Warbler
iii
25
Female of ditto
iii
55
Pine Finch
ii
133
Scarlet Ibis
viii
41
Pine Grosbeak
.
i
80
Scarlet Tanager
ii
42
Pine-swamp Warbler .
v
100
Young of ditto
vi
13
Pinnated Grous
iii
104
Scaup Duck
viii
87
Pintail Duck
viii
75
Scoter Duck
viii
149
Piping Plover
V
30
Screech Owl
V
83
Poke
vii
102
Sea Eagle
vii
16
Prairie Warbler
iii
87
Sea-side Finch
iv
68
Prothonotary Warbler
iii
72
Semipalmated Sandpiper
vii
137
Purple Finch
i
119
Semipalmated Snipe
vii
27
Young of ditto
v
87
Sharp-shinned Hawk
v
116
Purple Grakle
iii
44
Sharp-tailed Finch
.
iv
70
Purple Martin .
V
58
Sheldrake
viii
70
Purre
vii
39
Shitepoke
.
vii
102
Qua-bird
vii
106
Shore Lark
i
85
Quail
vi
21
Short-billed Curlew .
.
vii
22
Rail
vi
27
Short-eared Owl .
iv
64
Raven
ix
279
Short-tailed Tern
vii
87
Red Bat
vi
60
Shoveller Duck
viii
67
Red-backed Sandpiper
vii
25
Skimmer, or Shearwater
.
vii
89
Red-bellied Nuthatch .
i
43
Slate-coloured Hawk
vi
13
Red-bellied Woodpecker
i
113
Small Green Flycatcher
•
ii
77
4 G
VOL. IX
INDEX
VOL.
Smew
viii
Small-headed Flycatcher
vi
Snake-bird
. . ix
Female of ditto
. . ix
Snipe .
. . vi
Snow-bird
. . ii
Snow Bunting
. . iii
Snow Goose
. . viii
Young of ditto
. . viii
Snow Owl
. . iv
Solitary Flycatcher
. . ii
Solitary Sandpiper
. . vii
Song Sparrow
. . ii
Sooty Tern
. . viii
Sora
vi
South-southerly Duck
. viii
Sparrow Hawk
. . ii
Spirit Duck
. . viii
Spoonbill
. : vii
Spotted Sandpiper
. . vii
Sprigtail Duck
. viii
Starling
. iv
Stormy Petrel
. . vii
Straight-billed Curlew
vii
Summer Duck
. . viii
Summer Red-bird
. . i
Summer Yellow-bird
. ii
Surf Duck
. . viii
Swallow-tailed Hawk
. . vi
Swamp Robin
. . ii
Swamp Sparrow
iii
Swift Lizard
v
Tawny Thrush
V
Tell-tale Godwit, or Snipe
. . vii
Tennesee Warbler
iii
Thrasher
. . ii
Tilt
. vii
Towhee Bunting
. . ii
Female of ditto
vi
Tree Sparrow
. . ii
Tufted Duck .
. . viii
Turkey-buzzard
. . ix
T um-stone
vii
Turtle Dove
V
VOL. PAGE
Tyrant Flycatcher
ii
66
Velvet Duck
. viii
151
Virginian Partridge .
vi
21
Virginian Rail
vii
114
Warbling Flycatcher .
V
85
Water Thrush
iii
66
Whip-poor-will
v
71
Whistling Field Plover
vii
42
White-bellied Swallow
v
44
White-breasted Nuthatch
. i
40
White-crowned Bunting
iv
49
White-eyed Flycatcher
. ii
166
White-headed Eagle .
iv
89
Ditto
. ix
297
White Ibis ....
viii
43
White Nun
. viii
136
White-throated Sparrow
iii
51
White-winged Crossbill .
. iv
48
Whooping Crane
viii
20
Widgeon
. viii
91
Wild Pigeon
v
102
Wiilet ....
. vii
27
Wilson’s Plover
ix
242
Winter Hawk, or Falcon
iv
73
Winter Wren
i
139
Woodcock
. vi
40
Wood Duck ....
viii
102
Wood Ibis
viii
39
Wood-pewee Flycatcher
ii
81
Wood Thrush, or Wood Robin .
. i
29
Worm-eating Warbler
iii
74
Yellow-bellied Woodpecker
. i
147
Yellow-billed Cuckoo
iv
13
Yellow-bird
. i
20
Yellow-breasted Chat
i
90
Yellow-crowned Heron
viii
26
Yellow Red-poll Warbler
iv
19
Yellow-rump Warbler
. ii
138
Ditto ....
V
121
Yellow-shanks Snipe
. vii
59
Yellow-throated Flycatcher
i
117
Yellow-throat Warbler
ii
64
Yellow-winged Sparrow
iii
76
PAGE
136
62
244
249
18
129
36
79
94
53
143
57
125
161
27
98
117
5!
129
64
75
30
94
30
102
95
ni
49
70
35
49
118
98
61
83
83
52
35
90
123
61
262
32
91
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